RoBul One-Shots
by ShowMeTheStarsIn221B
Summary: A collection of one-shots starring the eccentric Romania and his beloved Bulgaria. Full description inside.
1. Chapter 1

_Full description: This is a one-shot series starring the wonderful characters of Romania and Bulgaria. Each story will vary in genre, some of them fluffy while some of them might be sad. However, each story will not be rated higher than T! Many of these stories will be inspired, mainly by music. Feel free to leave requests and feedback. _

* * *

**Rope Swing.**

It was a slow day, and the sun was beating on the children by the side of the road. A group of three, a tough looking girl was leading the way followed by two boys, the biggest of them dragging his feet and the other bouncing with every step. They were making their way up the street, chattering constantly as they went, pushing each other lightly and laughing as the other stuck out their tongue.

Tsvetan watched them come past his backyard, where he was swinging absentmindedly on the gate, having nothing better to do since he had been ordered to go play outside. His small feet kicked the iron bars of the gate as he leant over backwards, admiring the solid blue of the sky above his head.

"Why are you doing that?"

Tsvetan's vision was suddenly filled with an image of a soft, curious face with curious red eyes staring at him in amusement. He yelped and straightened up so fast that he banged heads with the other kid, rendering them both bent double, clutching their skulls.

"Owww!"

"I'm sorry!" Gasped Tsvetan, "I'm so so sorry!" This wasn't quite how he wanted to introduce himself to these kids…

Laughter rang through Tsvetan's ringing ears, and he looked up to see the girl doubled over with mirth at her friend's plight, ponytail flipping into her eyes.

"Alin, your face is so funny!" She said between gasps, pointing at Tsvetan's victim with a shaking finger.

"Shut up Eliza," grumbled Alin, but Tsvetan was relieved to see that he was still smiling. "It hurt!"

"I'm really-" Tsvetan's apology was cut off by Alin, who laughed and said;

"You've already said that! Is that all you can say?"

Tsvetan blushed and nodded his head, confusing Alin and the others even more.

"So that_ is_ all you can say?" Asked a bemused Eliza, head cocked. Tsvetan blushed again as he realised his mistake.

"Oh, sorry!" he said again, causing even more peals of laughter to break out among the other children. "I'm trying to stop doing that. When I nod, I really mean no."

"That's weird," spoke up the third boy. He was bigger than the others, and dressed strangely in a half mask and a fez on his head.

"I think it's cool!" Said Alin again, his bright eyes curious. "What's your name?"

"Tsvetan," Tsvetan mumbled, his eyes fixed on the dusty ground. "I've just moved here,"

"Where did you use to live?" Asked Eliza curiously, "was it Hungry, like me?"

"Or Turkey?" Piped up the boy with the scary mask.

"Or Romania?" Alin eagerly awaited Tsvetan's answer with his chin in his hands, forearms resting on the gate. "That's where I'm from!"

"Actually, I'm from Bulgaria," Tsvetan provided.

"Oooh!" Alin leant back, eyes wide. "I've been there before! Everyone spoke funny."

"You speak funny," Said Tsvetan, crossing his arms.

"And your tooth is weird!" Eliza chipped in, and for the first time, Tsvetan noticed Alin's uncannily long canine. Alin felt it self-consciously, before glaring at Eliza.

"It is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!'

Tsvetan watched the dispute with amusement, as Alin crossed his arms and Eliza stomped her foot, her heavy boots disturbing some dust that lay on the road, previously undisturbed.

"Is too-"

"Can we go already?" Complained the other boy, looking bored. "I'm really hot and I want to get to the top of the hill before lunchtime!"

"Oh yeah!" Alin jumped back into action, yelling to Eliza that he'd race her up the hill. But just before he was about to leave, he turned back and looked at Tsvetan.

"Hey Tsve, do you wanna come with us?"

Tsvetan looked back over his shoulder at is house, and then back at Alin's eager face.

"We're going up the hill to find the swing!" Eliza elaborated, pointing up the road to where a small, steep hill rose, a green splodge in the middle of the suburban buildings. "Come with us, it'll be fun!"

"I don't think mum would be that happy if I go…" said Tsvetan, trailing off. But Alin was having none of it.

"Come on~ Pleeeease?" He tugged on Tsvetan's arm, practically pulling him out of the gate in his haste. "It'll be an adventure!"

"O-Ok fine…" Tsvetan surrendered, and let himself be tugged out of his drive and onto the street.

"Hey guys! Last one to the top is a rotten egg!" Alin yelled, and all three children took off down the street, Tsvetan with them.

* * *

The rope swing was at the very top of the hill, a large plank of wood, large enough to fit four children sitting side by side hanging down from two pieces of rope tied onto what seemed to Tsvetan like the biggest, oldest tree he had ever seen. It towered above their heads, its branches reaching up to the skies in all its majesty, the king on top of his castle.

"Bags the first turn!"

Tsvetan suddenly realised that the other children had started rushing up past him, trying desperately to scramble up the tree roots and onto the swing. Elizabeta had launched herself, stomach first onto it, thus making it swing sideways, almost hitting Tsvetan in the head. Alin was scrambling up, fighting with Elizabeta as he did so. Sadiq, the boy with the mask, was just big enough to climb on easily enough, leaving Tsvetan to hurry after them.

"C'mon Tsve!" Alin extended a hand so Tsvetan could get up. Tsvetan grabbed it and hauled himself onto the seat, squished between Alin and the rope. He had only just gained a secure seat before Sadiq kicked the tree trunk and propelled them forward.

Tsvetan suddenly felt as if he was flying. The rope swing flew high above the ground, making him feel as if he was part of the horizon, above the hill, above the suburb, above the city and the harbour. Elated, he let out a yell of delight, and was echoed by Alin doing the same.

Suddenly, Tsvetan slipped forward, and would've come off the swing if Alin hadn't caught him around the shoulders.

"Careful!" Alin laughed, arm still around Tsvetan. "It would hurt if you fell off now!"

Tsvetan silently agreed. The ground seemed like a very long way away. "Do you mind if I hold onto you?" He questioned, looking at Alin cautiously. However, the other boy just laughed again.

"I'm holding onto you, aren't I?"

"Oh yeah," Tsvetan mumbled, face red. Hesitantly, he slipped an arm around Alin's waist and clung on tight.

"Don't you worry, you can count on me," said Alin seriously as they held each other on the swing, swinging wildly up into the solid blue sky, "I won't ever let you go."

* * *

**10 years later**

Tsvetan slammed his textbook down on his desk with a resounding thud and put his head in his hands. The reason why the all his teachers had decided to give him masses of homework all at the same time was completely beyond him, Tsvetan thought, looking out of his window at the dreary grey sky. It was as if they enjoyed inflicting stress on their students. It probably gave them immense satisfaction to see teenagers walk in every morning completely sleep deprived because of essays and assignments keeping them up all night.

On that note, Tsvetan decided to start, flipping open his science textbook and plugging his earphones into his ear and prepared to unlock the secrets of the universe.

**Complete the following chemical equations.**

**Magnesium carbonate + hydrochloric acid **

"No, I can't do it…"

Tsvetan banged his head on the table slowly, cursing his over talkative classmate for distracting him when they were learning the formula. Science had never been his best subject, but blaming Alin seemed to be the best plan of action at the moment.

Tsvetan was about to attempt the next question and come back to metal carbonates and acid when his phone suddenly buzzed, Paul Simon's song 'Boy in the Bubble' playing loudly, informing Tsvetan that he had a new text to answer and help him procrastinate.

**New message from ALIN  
****I'm bored. Wanna go walking with me? **

Tsvetan stared at the message for a moment before tapping out a reply.

**To ALIN  
****It's raining and I have science hmwrk**

As if to emphasise Tsvetan's point, the rain started lashing at the window in waves, as if it was trying to cleanse the area of pleasant thoughts singlehandedly.

**New message from ALIN  
****U haven't felt true happiness until u have walked in the rain. Fuck science hmwrk**

**To ALIN  
****True saturation u mean. It's due tomorrow!**

**New Message from ALIN  
****Cmon please~**

**To ALIN  
****Y the sudden desire to walk in the rain? Been watching some Gene Kelly?**

**New message from ALIN  
****I need some space to think and I wan with me  
****Not lately, but damn that boy was fine. I would totally tap that.**

Tsvetan couldn't help laughing at the last comment. Alin was so incredibly open about his sexuality; Tsvetan couldn't help but feel jealous. Jealous of everyone being comfortable round Alin and jealous of the boys Alin would point out as being good looking. Yes, Tsvetan thought they were good looking too, but he couldn't help wishing that one day Alin would notice him the same way…

_Don't go into that now. _Tsvetan mentally shook himself and turned his attentions back to his mobile.

**To ALIN  
****Sounds deep  
****How old is he now anyway?  
****I'm still not coming**

**New message from ALIN  
I'm in a deep kinda mood  
****He died man. Stop being so insensitive  
****Well that's 2 bad, bcause I'm outside ur house right now.**

**To ALIN  
****Creeper. Fine, I'm coming**

**New Message from ALIN  
****:DDDD**

* * *

True to his word, Tsvetan found Alin leaning against the back gate, hair and clothes completely drenched as he greeted Tsvetan enthusiastically.

"Hey man!"

"Hey," Said Tsvetan, drawing up the zipper on his tatty green raincoat as he made his way over. "Aren't you cold?"

"Not really," Said Alin, drawing his hand through his long strawberry blonde hair, which had steadily grown darker with age. "My charisma keeps me warm."

"Yeah, whatever."

They started walking in silence for a few minutes, rain running down their hair and shoulders, their feet dragging through the muddy road. Tsvetan pulled up the hood of his raincoat and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, watching Alin out of the corner of his eye. Even in the rain, Alin looked incredibly alluring.

"Do you remember when we first met?"

Tsvetan frowned at the strange nature of this abrupt question, before replying with, "Yes of course. It was outside my house, wasn't it? I'd just moved in."

"You head-butted me."

"That's right!" Laughed Tsvetan, remembering. "And I couldn't stop apologising and you couldn't stop laughing at me."

"I thought you were the cutest thing I had ever seen."

"Huh?"

"Oh, nothing…"

It dawned on Tsvetan that Alin was acting very strangely, much unlike his usual, eccentric self. He seemed a lot more thoughtful, serious. It scared Tsvetan a little.

"Alin, are you feeling al-"

He stopped, suddenly feeling shivers running down his spine, heart in his mouth. Alin had shifted ever so slightly in his walking pattern and was brushing shoulders with Tsvetan. He was too close, far too close for comfort. Tsvetan only hoped that the rain on his face would disguise and sweat drops.

"A-Alin?" He stuttered; face feeling as if it was aflame. "W-what-"

Alin only looked at him, giving him a small half smirk that sent Tsvetan's heart fluttering.

"Where are we going?" Tsvetan asked, trying to keep his tone as nonchalant as possible.

Alin shrugged, and pointed up to the top of the hill. "I thought maybe we could walk up there? Maybe it will stop raining once we reach the top?"

"I thought you liked the rain?" Teased Tsvetan, his heart still thumping at Alin's touch. Did Alin know the effect he had on him? Was that why he was teasing him so?

"I do. I was thinking about you, huddled in that ugly green raincoat," Alin joked, pulling lightly at one of the drawstrings. Tsvetan swatted away his hand irritably.

"You were the one who dragged me out here in the first place!"

"True," agreed Alin.

"Are you going to tell me why?"

"I told you, I needed space to think."

"About what?"

Alin didn't answer; he just stared ahead into the rain, up to the mist covered hill in front. Then his face split into a smile, and the old Alin reappeared, as if the sun had come out from behind a cloud.

"I know exactly where we should go."

* * *

The rope swing was exactly as Tsvetan remembered it, perhaps a little more worn down and a lot wetter, but still exactly the same. It still hung over its little mound the tree roots had created, waiting for the next person to make it fly.

It was difficult getting on, Tsvetan felt awkward manoeuvring his long limbs onto the seat without tipping it over, and the slippery surface didn't help much. However, he finally managed to haul himself up and sit without falling off, only to watch Alin slide on effortlessly next to him.

The Romanian teen twisted in his seat in order to shove the tree trunk behind him, sending him and Tsvetan swinging forward into the rain and the mist and the sky.

Tsvetan felt Alin's arm hook around his waist and hold him tight, and he in turn threaded his own arm around Alin's shoulders. Shrieking with laugher, they felt the rain on their faces, dampening their hair and pushing them off the seat. Tsvetan was forcibly reminded of a time many years ago, where Alin had held him and vowed that he would never let him go.

The wood of the tree branch creaked slightly as the rope slowed to a halt, Alin and Tsvetan still sitting on a plank of wood, arms around each other. Tsvetan quickly unwound himself, but Alin stopped him, staring deep into Tsvetan's green eyes.

"You know how I said I needed time to think?" He said his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Tsvetan shook his head without thinking before correcting himself. Alin let out a little laugh.

"Well, I think I've reached a conclusion."

And with that, Alin leant forward and captured Tsvetan's lips with his own.

For a moment (or was it an hour), they sat there, kissing lightly on a rope swing under an ancient tree, all wet faces and cold hands and clumsy technique, surrounded by the sound of wood, rain and happiness.

* * *

_A/N: This story was inspired by an actual rope swing I once visited with my sister on a particularly rainy day. I went back home, wrote a poem about it and came up with an idea for a story. Sorry if some of the characters (Romania, Turkey) seem a bit OOC._

_Congratulations if any of you noticed that the first sentence was an adapted version of the lyrics of the song Tsvetan uses for his ringtone. You have excellent taste in music if I say so myself… _

_My inner science geek shone through a little while writing this. The answer to Tsvetan's chemical equation is Magnesium Chloride + Carbon Dioxide + water. I would've written it in the chemical symbols but my computer wouldn't let me *sheds tear*._

_Gene Kelly is an old actor and dancer who was particularly famous for his leading role in the movie_ Singing in the Rain._ If you haven't seen that movie, I seriously recommend you do so, its fantastic._

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Note- this instalment takes place in Tsvetan and Alin's early years of high school, before they start going out._

* * *

**Caught on Camera**

It was dark; the only light that could be seen was filtered through the closed curtains on the other side of the room. Alin crept slightly across the wooden floorboards, socks slipping slightly as he moved. In his hand he held a video camera, which he stealthy turned on. Once he got to the edge of the bed, he lay down on the floor and aimed the camera lens at the sleeping figure on the mattress.

"Day one of observational diary, entry one," Alin whispered, pressing the record button. "Subject appears to be sleeping, however the alarm in due to go off in-" he checked his watch, "two minutes."

If the video camera had been facing the other way, it would've caught the wicked grin spreading over Alin's face as he stared at his roommate's prone form. "Let's fix that, shall we?"

Alin grabbed the clock resting on the bedside table and started fiddling with the buttons, changing the time so it read 9.00 rather than 5.00. When he was done, he took his place up at the doorway and flicked the lights on.

"TSVETAN, GET UP!" He yelled, making the figure in the bed jerk upright immediately.

"Alin, what's going on…?" Tsvetan asked sleepily, running a hand through his dark hair.

"It's nine o-clock, you're going to be late for school!" Alin yelled, walking up to Tsvetan (still recording) and whacked him over the head with a pillow. "Get up, get up get up!"

Tsvetan cursed and jumped out of bed, perhaps a little _too _fast. He immediately tripped over his overly long pyjama bottoms and landed on the floor, much to the amusement of his roommate.

"Shut the fuck up." Tsvetan grumbled as picked himself up off the ground, sending a death glare in Alin's direction, noticing the camera for the first time. "Alin, what is that?"

"What, this?" Alin jiggled the video camera innocently, zooming in on Tsvetan's look of horror. "Oh, this is my new project."

"Do I really want to know…?"

"It's called 'observational diary of Homo Sapiens' and you are my main subject!"

"I feel so privileged…" Tsvetan muttered, slipping on his dressing gown and making his way past Alin, hiding his face from the camera lens. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to have a shower…"

"Go ahead," Said Alin cheerfully. "Just make sure you hurry, otherwise you'll be late for school~"

Tsvetan didn't reply, just flipped Alin his middle finger and yawned sleepily, padding out of the room.

"Conclusion," Alin whispered conspiratorially, swinging the camera around so it faced him this time, "subject is extremely irritable and unobservant when woken." He giggled a little before continuing, "Shall we see how long it will take for him to notice that he woke up two hours too early?"

Alin waited for a moment before…

"ALIN, YOU LITTLE-"

Alin quickly stopped the recording on the camera before Tsvetan finished, laughing all the while.

* * *

"Observational diary, entry two."

The bathroom floor was damp under Alin's sock-clad feet, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to move stealthy, while trying to make himself heard over the sound of the shower and extractor fan.

"Subject has decided to wash itself in the bathroom shower. For the benefit of younger viewers, the shower curtain shall remain closed until further notice."

Alin zoomed in to the hideous shower curtain, a bright pink and green thing decorated with rainbow coloured fish and homicidal crabs. You could just make out Tsvetan's silhouette beyond it, made hazy by steam.

"Goddamn, dat subject is mighty fine," whispered Alin.

Suddenly, the sound of singing echoed through the bathroom, bouncing off the damp walls. The pure, full, never heard before voice of Tsvetan Borisov singing 'the sound of music' was being caught on video, much to Alin's pleasure.

"Holy crap Tsve, you never told me you could sing!" He exclaimed, forgetting all about stealth and secrecy for the moment. He carefully placed the camera on the sink and grabbed a towel, pushing aside the shower curtain. Tsvetan let out a (manly) scream as Alin chucked him a towel to wrap around himself and picked him up in a fireman's lift. "Why didn't you tell me before!?"

"Alin, what are you doing? Put me down!"

But Alin wasn't listening, he was too busy blathering on about how Tsvetan needed to tell Mr Edelstein about his talent, and how he could win competitions and make everyone super-duper proud, especially Alin because he'd always believed in him-

"Alin, I'm wearing a towel, I'm sopping wet and can't sing to save my life, so can you please just TURN THAT DAMN CAMERA OFF!"

"…Spoil sport," Alin pouted, but stopped the recording anyway, still holding Tsvetan over his shoulder. Tsvetan knew that struggling against Alin would be useless, but he still took fistfuls of the fabric of the back of Alin's jacket and kicked pathetically. "Alin, please put me down, this is humiliating…" he whispered, feeling his face heating up and desperately hoping that Alin would have the brains to keep this quiet. Somehow he doubted it though…

"If you insist," Alin said, practically dumping Tsvetan on the couch, to many squeals of protest.

"I hate you."

"No you don't~!"

* * *

Tsvetan wanted to curl up in a little ball of shame and hide away from the world. Instead, he was currently walking into his first class (art) followed by an enthusiastic Romanian with a video camera, muttering some kind of commentary as they went.

"Notice how the subject bends his head to avoid eye contact with other humans… A sign of embarrassment and low self-esteem found in many humans at this age." Alin lowered the camera and called out to Tsvetan, "Hey Tsve, are you feeling ok?"

"I'm fine Alin," Tsvetan hissed. "Will you please stop pointing that thing at me now?"

"Oooh, the subject isn't pleased with us precious!' Alin said in his best Gollum impression, clutching the camera to his chest in mock sadness. "Nasty, nasty Tsvetan…"

Tsvetan decided that ignoring his roommate was probably the best course of action at this present time.

"My preciousssss…"

"Oh my Gandalf, a LOTR fan~!" Suddenly Alin was attacked from behind by an incredibly enthusiastic curly haired first year, much to Tsvetan's amusement. Tsvetan quickly snatched the camera out of Alin's hands and pointed it at him, determined to repay his previous favour.

"There is literally no one else at this school who likes Lord of the Rings, I'm so glad I met you!" The mysterious teen was grabbed Alin's hand, but instead of shaking it as Alin obviously suspected, he placed his other hand on Alin's shoulder and drew him up close, touching his nose and forehead with the confused Romanian, who evidently thought that he had been about to kiss him. Tsvetan felt his gut tighten as he looked at the pair, as if a large hand had come in and grabbed his stomach.

"Wha-"

"I'm Rua Sheppard, but you can call me Kiwi, everyone does," Said Alin's attacker, pulling back, much to Tsvetan's relief.

"I'm Alin Radacanu!" replied Alin, equally as enthusiastically. "That's my buddy Tsvetan," He pointed at Tsvetan, who was still recording the both.

"What are you doing with that camera?" Kiwi asked curiously, twirling the large brown curl he had above his ear with one finger.

"It's a project of mine," Said Alin, plucking the camera out of Tsvetan's hands and aiming it at Kiwi. "I'm filming Tsvetan's daily routine in order to fully understand the human race."

"I did something like that once," said Kiwi thoughtfully, "But it was about sheep."

"What's this whole 'understanding the human race' stuff about? You're part of it, dumbass," said Tsvetan affectionately, ruffling Alin's overly long hair.

"I might be a full blooded vampire for all you know!" Protested Alin, ducking under Tsvetan's arm. "See?" He opened up his mouth to give Kiwi, Tsvetan and the camera full view of his fang.

"Cool!" Said Kiwi, peering at it closely.

Alin grinned, slamming his jaws shut. "Most people are weirded out by it, actually."

Kiwi shrugged. "It's all good with me bro. I've got the famous Kirkland family 'brows, after all," he lifted up his fringe to show off a pair of extremely bushy eyebrows, waggling them playfully.

"What about you Tsvetan?" Kiwi asked, letting his hair flop back and turning towards Tsvetan. "Have you got any appearance quirks?"

Tsvetan opened his mouth to reply, but Alin cut in first.

"Tsve is perfect."

…What?

Tsvetan stood there, feeling as if his entire body was aflame with embarrassment and confusion. Did Alin even realise what he just said?

"Hey Kiwi, where are ya mate?"

Kiwi waved to someone in the distance, before turning back to Alin and Tsvetan. "That's my bro Oz, I guess I'll see you later!"

"Yeah, see you…" Said Tsvetan, still not quite recovered from Alin's outburst.

"Bye Kiwi!" Alin waved.

* * *

"Dude, why do you eat so much yoghurt?"

Tsvetan was currently sitting in the cafeteria, trying to eat his lunch at the same time as ignoring a camera being pointed at his face.

"Yoghurt is nice. It's good for you," Replied Tsvetan, licking his spoon thoughtfully. "Why do _you _drink so much raspberry cordial?"

"It's not raspberry cordial; it's the blood of a couple of virgins!" Alin protested, taking a sip of his drink.

"Whatever."

Lunchtimes were usually like this for Tsvetan, just him and Alin hanging out in the back corner of the cafeteria away from the rest of the students. The rest of the school tended to avoid them, probably because they were discouraged by Alin's vampire quirks, but Tsvetan knew better. There were a group of students who had previously made Tsvetan's school experience hell in the past, so Tsvetan was determined to stay away from them, to protect himself, and more importantly, Alin.

Said teen was currently filming himself drink raspberry cordial as fast as he could without choking and paying no attention to his friend whatsoever.

"I'm going to the bathroom," Tsvetan announced, placing his yoghurt carton on the table and getting up. "Make sure you don't drown yourself."

Alin gave him the thumbs up and resumed.

Tsvetan made his way over to the door, head bowed, trying hard to avoid any unnecessary eye contact. He held his breath when passing the table of a group of thugs, trying desperately not to look at them. However, he had just reached the door when he felt a large hand clamp onto his shoulder.

"Well, look who it is!" The boy behind Tsvetan jeered, swinging his around in order to leer into his face. "We heard something interesting about you this morning _Borisov."_

Tsvetan forced himself to meet the boy's eyes, trying his hardest not to look like a stunned rabbit caught in the headlights.

"I-I don't know what you mean," Tsvetan said, voice quavering.

"Oh, I think you do." The boy grinned nastily, eager to put on a show for his cronies, who were gathering behind them. "I heard that you have a secret passion for singing opera when no one else is around." He leaned closer, so close that Tsvetan could count the amount of straggly hairs on his upper lip. "I never thought you could get any more pathetic, _faggot."_

Tsvetan bit his lip hard, feeling the anger swelling in his gut at that last remark.

"I suppose you're secretly getting it on with your little roommate over there," The bully looked exactly like a big cat, proud of itself because it caught a mouse. It was all Tsvetan could do to stop himself from leaping on this boy and wiping that smirk off his face. _If he dares talk about Alin like that again…_

"No denial? Well that settles it then boys, little Borisov here is shagging that freak of nature!"

Tsvetan couldn't take it anymore. He put his head down and ran full tilt at the bully, ramming into his stomach like an angry bull, almost toppling him over. However, the thug was caught by his cronies and got steadily to his feet again, all trace of mirth vanished from his face.

"You shouldn't have done that, you little shit."

Tsvetan backed away as five fully grown teenagers advanced on him, cracking their knuckles menacingly. Tsvetan raised his fists, more to protect his face than anything.

The first punch fell, connecting with Tsvetan's jaw with what felt like the force of a ten tonne truck, felling him with one blow. Tsvetan hesitantly felt his cheek, and was unsurprised to feel a trickle of warm blood. He didn't get up again, just curled into a ball and waited for the next round of abuse.

"Stop right there."

Tsvetan opened his eyes. Standing right in front of him, bold as brass, was Alin, still holding his video camera. His eyes were burning with an inner fury as he levelled the camera at the offenders, hands completely steady.

"Step away from him." Alin said with a jerk of his head towards Tsvetan, still lying on the floor.

"Why should we?" Said the first bully, stepping forward and leering at Alin. However, Alin met his gaze head on and replied coolly; "I've got the entire event recorded here on my camera, which is enough proof to get you suspended or even expelled from this school. Do you really want to risk adding to those offenses?"

That caused a reaction; the bully paused and looked momentarily doubtful. But then one of his cronies muttered in his ear and suddenly the grin was back.

"Alright wise-guy, but what happens if I break that camera?"

"This camera?" Alin jiggled it slightly in his hands, "This hideously expensive camera that cost over five hundred dollars?" A predatorial grin spread across Alin's face. "If you break this camera then you'll have to pay for it, I'm afraid."

The ringleader of the group weighed up his options, glaring at Alin as he did so. Nevertheless, he knew that Alin had him trapped.

"…Fine," He spat, turning away. "I hope you feel proud of yourself, _freak."_

Once Tsvetan as sure the coast was clear, he picked himself up off the ground and dusted himself off, groaning slightly.

"Are you OK Tsve!?" Suddenly Alin was all over him, checking his body for further injuries before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. "Did they hurt you badly? I saw you knock that dude over, that was awesome! Oh man, I was so worried about you-"

"I'm fine Alin really!" Tsvetan blushed and struggled to free himself from Alin's tight embrace, careful not to knock the camera out of his hand. However, Alin refused to let go.

"I can't believe that worked," Alin admitted into Tsvetan's ear.

"It was really smart of you," Said Tsvetan, giving Alin a squeeze. "Smart and brave."

"Actually," Alin said, looking away, "I was secretly filming you leaving the room before the dickheads turned up…"

Tsvetan rolled his eyes. "Why am I not surprised…?"

Alin laughed and released Tsvetan, ruffling his hair. "Well, do you know what this means?"

"…What does it mean?" Said Tsvetan, dreading the answer.

"It means you can't complain about me filming you ever again!"

**End**

* * *

_A/N: Don't even ask me what that was. I decided to add something vaguely resembling a plot halfway through, and thusly turned this one-shot into a complete cliché. Well done me._

_The idea of Alin's 'observational diary' was inspired by something similar I made with my sister once, except we did ours about our cat. Bulgaria's singing moment in the shower was based off an RP. I have a little headcanon that Bul is actually really talented at singing, but he is really private about it. _

_I gave New Zealand a cameo this time for no particular reason! I made him male for this fic because I couldn't be bothered writing him as gender-neutral. Personally I like the idea of Male!NZ, because his voice sounds masculine to me. I gave him the name 'Rua Sheppard' after two important people in New Zealand history, Rua was a Maori chief who became a kind of prophet and led his people through the mountains and set up an entirely new civilised life style for them. Rua is also the Maori word for 2, which I thought would signify the fact that NZ 2 islands. Sheppard comes from Kate Sheppard, the truly inspirational woman who got woman the vote for the first time ever. I met her descendant in a café the other day actually, which was seriously cool. Sheppard wasn't just some awful pun of mine, honest! Unfortunately I spent the entire time writing his scene while looking at the __**#free!Swimming anime**__ tag on Tumblr, so NZ started channelling Nagisa's personality. I love Nagisa too much for my own good. Is anyone else watching that new anime? It's amazing! Nagisa and Rei are my OTP._

_Don't blink or you'll miss Australia's cameo. No, he wasn't one of the bullies, they were all OCs._

_Long authors note is long. Reviews are greatly appreciated _

_-Stars._


	3. Chapter 3

**Starry Night**

* * *

Tsvetan had no idea what he was doing here. He asked himself that question over and over again as he pushed through hanging branches and stumbled over dead leaves, getting colder and colder under the dark night sky. He wrapped his hoodie around him tighter and pushed forward.

"Alin? You better have a good reason for dragging me out here!" He said loudly to the figure in front. Alin turned around and flashed him a cheeky grin, the light from his torch bouncing off his red eyes and large canine.

"Just bear with me Tsve!" He replied, making Tsvetan roll his eyes in frustration.

"I've been bearing with you for two years Alin, so please don't doubt me now," Tsvetan joked, "But dragging me out into the bush in the middle of the night? That's a bit unexpected, even for you,"

"Actually, I've wanted to do this for a long time," Alin admitted.

"Perhaps you could've warned me in advance then?"

"Oh honey, you know that's not quite my style," Alin said jauntily, pinching Tsvetan's cheek. He took Tsvetan's hand in order to pull him along, but frowned when he felt how cold his fingers were.

"Are you cold?"

"No, not really,' Said Tsvetan, snuggling deeper into his hoodie. Alin rolled his eyes and shrugged off his jacket, placing it around Tsvetan's shoulders gently, smiling at the light pink blush that was spreading over his boyfriend's cheeks.

"…Thanks," Muttered Tsvetan.

"Don't mention it," said Alin brightly, giving Tsvetan's hand a squeeze. "It's quite uncomfortable kissing a human icicle after all!"

Tsvetan aimed a good natured swipe at his head, which Alin dodged easily. "Idiot."

"So, where _are _we going?" Tsvetan asks after a few minutes, trying to peer through the trees and spot something, _anything _that might give him a hint at where Alin was taking him.

"It's not far now," was all Alin said in reply. "It's just through these trees. See?" And with that, Alin pushed his way through a particularly dense patch of bracken leaving Tsvetan to follow in his wake.

Tsvetan shoved his way through the final overhanging branch and looked around him, taking in his surroundings. "Alin, it's just a clearing."

"Yeah!"

"You dragged me all the way out here in the middle of the night to look at a clearing."

"Not at the clearing itself, silly," Chided Alin. "Come here."

Tsvetan made his way over cautiously. It wasn't unlike Alin to place a booby trap where he walked for a 'harmless joke'.

Alin laughed at Tsvetan's wary expression and sat down on the dewy grass and lay back, patting the ground beside him. Tsvetan spread Alin's jacket on the ground before lying down on a slight angle to Alin, their heads touching.

"Look up there," Said Alin, pointing towards the sky.

Tsvetan looked, and gasped. Above where they lay, the sky was perfectly clear, the pure darkness only penetrated by the tiny pinpricks of white light that were the stars, millions of light years away. The moon shone with the reflected light of the sun, a king amongst his subjects.

"It's beautiful…" Tsvetan breathed, eyes still fixed on the magnificent sight. "I've never seen the night sky that clear before!"

Alin looked across at him and smiled, taking Tsvetan's hand in his own.

"Take a look at the constellations," Alin said, pointing with the same hand that was currently wrapped around Tsvetan's own. "Do you see those three stars in a row there?"

Tsvetan nodded. "That's Orion's belt. Orion can be seen if you look above that, forever fighting his battles in the sky."

Tsvetan squinted in confusion. "I don't see him."

"But you can see his belt right?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Then you know he's there. It's like our ancestors saw these stars and glimpsed lines of light linking them together, mapping out stories…"

"Our ancestors looked at a different sky," Tsvetan reminded Alin.

"Yes, but the concept is the same. People did that all over the world. Now people are too caught up in their own lives to look up."

"Except you," said Tsvetan, nuzzling his nose into Alin's hair.

"Except me! But maybe that's because of my primal urges."

"Oh, for god's sake…"

Alin laughed cheerfully, showing off his elongated canine. He turned on his side and snaked his arms around Tsvetan, pulling him closer. "I know you like it Tsve~"

Tsvetan pushed him off, amused. "Calm yourself boy!"

"You wish," Teased Alin, but he rolled back anyway.

"You know, I often come out here to think sometimes," Alin admitted. "I always feel so small when I look up and see so many stars so far away. And beyond those stars are completely different galaxies where other civilisations might be living, looking at their own stars and telling their own stories about them. We are all just stories in the end, after all."

Alin shifted his fingers in Tsvetan's grasp, drawing their hands up until they were resting under his chin.

"I feel so small, and yet so big. I might not be a massive ball of plasma but I am part of this universe, part of everything. I can look up and see the light that took so long to travel here, and marvel at everything we have taught ourselves about it and how much we still do not understand. I can look the moon orbiting around our heads and see it as both a part of ancient fables and as our first stepping stone into the infinite world beyond."

Alin finished his small speech and met Tsvetan's wide eyes with a questioning look. Tsvetan was staring at his boyfriend with such open mouth wonder that Alin felt himself blush, a pink patch on his cheeks which intensified as Tsvetan rolled closer and placed a gentle hand on his cheek.

"You know," Said Tsvetan softly, "I was convinced that after two years of dating I knew everything I could about you."

Alin opened his mouth to speak, but Tsvetan placed a hand over it gently. "I never thought that you could make me love you even more. But apparently, I was wrong."

"Can I get a kiss now then?" said Alin hopefully.

"You're so demanding!" Tsvetan laughed, but obliged enthusiastically, smiling as he realised that Alin will never, ever stop surprising him.

* * *

_A/N: That was more philosophical than fluffy I suppose… Ah well. Have some views on the universe, inspired by Kimya Dawson's song 'I Like Giants' and the Doctor Who episode 'Vincent and the Doctor'. (Or really, one particular scene in that episode. The best scene in my opinion, hehe.)_

_Did any Whovians spot the Doctor Who line I threw in there? I couldn't resist…_

_Sorry this was so short!_

_-Stars_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Just a quick note before the story. This one shot is based off the song 'Open Your Eyes' by Snow Patrol, so it is very, VERY angsty. I recommend listening to the song while reading it, just to get yourself into the mood. Just remove the spaces from the link below _

_ www. youtube watch?v=fk1Q9y6VVy0_

* * *

**Open your eyes**

* * *

Alin could feel nothing. His head felt empty, devoid of all feeling or fully assembled thought. Inside the sterile white walls of the hospital, he sat in the waiting room for what felt like years, feeling as though he was living in a dream. Everything was so strange; nothing felt real anymore, nothing but the throbbing, the insistent pounding of his own heart. Something had been detached from him, something he needed more than breath, more than life itself.

The blood rushed to his head as he stared into space, altering his vision. He felt so tired, and oh, so cold. He must've aged at least a hundred years in that room, his bones ached as if he was an old man who had seen far too much.

His fingers fumbled with the phone he had clutched to his chest, its keypad slick with sweat. Again and again he glanced at it, the screen only displaying the last calls it had made.

Tsvetan's name glowed at the top of the list, the little smiley faces he had saved next to his contact number beamed at him accusingly.

"Excuse me,"

Alin looked up, his eyes red rimmed. The young nurse addressing him did a double take and blushed in an embarrassed manner before regaining her composure.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"I want to see Tsvetan Borisov, someone told me he was in this ward?" Alin voice felt as if he hadn't used in in centuries.

"Yes he is. Would you like me to take you to him?" The nurse asked, pulling absentmindedly at her red hairband and avoiding Alin's eyes. _If she works here she must be used to people like me,_ Alin thought as he nodded and followed her down a corridor_. I wonder how she copes…_

"He's just through here, on the bed to the far right," She pointed and smiled at Alin, who walked over, legs feeling like lead.

"Uh, thank you Miss…"

"Bella. You can call me Bella." She smiled again, green eyes wide.

"Yeah, thanks…"

She walked off and left Alin standing at the foot of a bed, staring down.

That wasn't Tsvetan. It couldn't be. Tsvetan wasn't that pale, his face almost as white as his sheets, a stark contrast to his dark hair which was splayed over his pillow. Tsvetan wasn't that small, he was always so full of life. Now he seemed to have shrunk in his coma induced sleep.

"Tsve…tan?" Alin couldn't help it, he dropped to his knees and grasped Tsvetan's hand, knotting his fingers through his stiff ones and clinging on tightly. "Tsve, can you hear me? It's me, Alin. I'm here." He squeezed Tsvetan's hand, pressing his forehead against the unresponsive knuckles. "I'm here with you."

There was no answer from the occupied bed, just slow, heavy breathing.

"Tsvetan, we need to get away from here. We need to get away from this place, from these liars. Do you know what they are saying about you?"

Again, there was no answer.

"They say that I shouldn't get my hopes up, that there is a very high chance-" Alin broke off, the words suddenly feeling too big for his mouth. They didn't want to be said, as if they were scared that if they came out into the open they might come true.

"They said that there was a very high chance that you won't wake up. There, I said it. But that won't change anything, because I know it's not true. Those doctors, they don't know you. They don't know about the fire in your soul, they don't know that you never will give up, that you are strong enough to keep fighting. They don't know that the way I do."

Alin broke off again, and carefully wiped a few locks of Tsvetan's dark hair off his sweaty forehead. "So make sure you keep fighting, 'kay?"

A few minutes passed, and then Alin spoke up again, voice low and full of oppressed emotion. "This is my fault."

Inside Alin's head, Tsvetan rolled his eyes at him and raised an eyebrow.

_How did you figure that one out then?_

"It was my fault!" Alin repeated, suddenly standing up and slamming his hands down on the bed. His eyes were full of a terrible red fire that burned, eating away at his insides. "If I didn't call you while you were driving, this wouldn't have happened!"

_Don't blame yourself Alin, don't you dare. _Imaginary Tsvetan folded his arms and glared at Alin, matching his gaze._ It was the drunk driver's fault that this happened, so don't you even think about beating yourself up about it._

"At least I will have someone to blame! Don't you understand?"

Imaginary Tsvetan just looked at him. That look reminded Alin so much of the real Tsvetan that he felt himself beginning to break down again, and took the sleeping Tsvetan's face in his hands, leaning his forehead against his. Alin tried desperately to control his breathing, focusing on Tsvetan's face, so close to his. How many times had he run his hands over that face, kissed that mouth and looked into those eyes? Those eyes that remained closed, hiding Tsvetan's should behind the eyelids like a bird trapped in a cage, a cage covered by a black blanket that muffled any noise, any desperate plea for help.

Alin had never wanted anything more badly than to open those very eyes, to see Tsvetan look at him with those beautiful green orbs the way he used to. He felt broken, shattered into a million pieces with only one way of being put back together.

"Tsvetan," he murmured, "Tsvetan please…" He leant his forehead back on Tsvetan's and took another deep breath. "Tell me that you'll open your eyes. Tsvetan, just open your eyes, just open them…"

He could not stop repeating himself, chanting "Open your eyes, open them _please," _over and over again. "Tell me you'll open them Tsve. I need you. I need you to look into my eyes and tell me that everything is going to be alright…"

The silenced that followed was deafening.

"Sir,"

Alin jumped, his body tightly wound like a bow string. He hadn't realised that he was so tense. The person who had spoken was the nurse from earlier, Bella. It was hard to make her out because she appeared to be swimming. He rubbed his eyes and noted dimly that his fingers came away wet.

"Sir, I'm afraid that I'll have to ask you to leave," Said Bella, her tone hushed. "You are scaring the other visitors."

"Oh. I'm very sorry," said Alin.

"Should I… Show you out?"

Alin blinked at that, her words finally sinking in.

"No!"

"I'm sorry?"

"I can't leave. I can't leave him." Alin clutched onto Bella's sleeve, his eyes desperately searching her face. "I can't-"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, gently steering him away from the bed, away from Tsvetan's vulnerable form.

"No! You don't understand-"

"I think it's probably time you went home sir," She said, gently tugging at his arm. His feet, traitorous bastards, were following her, tripping over themselves as they went. They were complete dead weights. "Would you like to give us your phone number so we can call you if anything happens?"

Alin stared at her absently before scribbling a few familiar numbers down on the clipboard Bella was offering. Once he was done, he shoved the board back at her and continued down the hallway. Once he got to the entrance of the hospital, he paused, looking up at the night sky, dotted with stars. Stars that couldn't have seemed more dim.

Alin started to run.

He ran until his chest started burning and his eyes started streaming.

He ran with his arms pumping like pistons at his side, feet pounding on the footpath.

He ran to escape his fear, his anger and his emptiness.

He ran until he pushed through the pain barrier.

He ran until he finally ended up at his front door and had to fumble for his keys, his panting breath coming out as puffs of steam in the cool night air.

Once inside his house, he made a beeline for his bedroom, his sanctuary. He threw open the door and burst inside, eyes scanning the room and alighting on the many photos of Tsvetan and himself tacked onto his mirror and notice board. Suddenly, pure rage and anger hit him like a wave, so powerfully he wondered why he was still standing.

His knees weakened and he collapsed forward, hands slamming down onto his dressing table and knocking over several picture frames. He glanced up and caught his reflection in the mirror. He was shocked at how normal he looked; surely his outward appearance would reflect what was happening to him on the inside? The only evidence of his emotional struggle was his eyes, red rimmed and puffy and utterly hideous. His mirror was decorated with even more pictures of Tsvetan, pictures of him laughing at the camera, arm around Alin more often than not.

Pictures of Tsvetan with his eyes open.

Alin couldn't take it anymore.

The thud and the shattering noise that rang out through the house perfectly echoed the sound that Alin's heart was making. Shards of silver glass and droplets of blood that fell to the floor in a kind of deranged rain, soon followed by Alin falling to his knees, cradling his torn knuckles.

"Why don't I feel it Tsvetan?" Alin whispered, shards of mirror slicing into his flesh as he kneeled on the floor. "All I feel is anger. Anger at me, anger at you…"

He raised his face to the ceiling and screamed, "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I NEED YOU TO SURVIVE?" Fresh tears ran down his face as he yelled at thin air, letting out all the supressed emotions that were bottled up inside him. "YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! DON'T YOU REMEMBER WHAT WE WERE GOING TO DO TOGETHER?"

Alin took a deep breath and continued, quieter this time.

"We were going to get married; you were going to have a _future _together. You and me." He choked back a sob and wiped his eyes with his bloody knuckles, smearing his face with red.

"How could this have happened Tsve…?"

From then on, only muffled sobbing could be heard.

* * *

Hours later, when Alin had finally fallen asleep, fully clothed and curled up into a ball on his bed, the room lit up dimly with the light of Alin's phone. It vibrated softly for a few minutes before going to voice mail. A pre-recorded, cheery voice rang out through the room.

"_Alo, you reached the phone of the amazingly fabulous Alin Radacanu, also known as the blood bank. Leave a message and I will hug you later."_

_ "Alin, they definitely won't leave you messages if you set that as your voicemail!"_

_ "Too bad Tsve, I'm not changing it! Oh shit, is this still recording?"_

The beep sounded, and for a moment there was silence. Then…

"He's awake."

**End.**

* * *

_A/N: Well, I hope you have now all recovered from that sudden bout of angst! I wasn't originally going to write this fic so soon, but I was stuck with ordering my ideas and my friend just said "Go with the one you have developed the most" which was this one. Sorry guys. _

_If any of you were confused, Tsvetan was talking on the phone to Alin when a drunk driver crashed into his car, putting Tsvetan into a coma. Alin arrives right away to visit him in the hospital. And yes, the nurse is Belgium. I gave her a cameo because she is cool. __ Sorry if I got any facts wrong, this story was mainly focussed on Alin's emotional state, not medical information about comas as you can kinda tell ;)_

_None of these fics are about the same versions of Alin and Tsvetan, so this story doesn't run into the previous one, if you were wondering. Just making that clear._

_The next update will be cute and fluffy, I promise!_

_-Stars._


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: This is based on another Snow Patrol song, Crack the Shutters. I hope you enjoy._

_ www. youtube watch?v=GhK81hZj4L4_

* * *

**Crack the Shutters**

* * *

Tsvetan woke up to the early morning light, shards of sun falling on his face from where they had escaped through the gaps of the shutters at the window. He blinked drowsily and rolled over in his bed, seeking the comforting darkness of sleep.

On the other side of the bed, Tsvetan found the half-naked form of Alin curled up, hair splayed all over the pillow. Tsvetan curled up closer to him, wanting to use his warmth as much as possible.

"Tsve…?"

"Mmm… Go back to sleep Alin…" Tsvetan mumbled.

"It's freezing," Alin murmured, leaning over the side of the bed to fiddle with the radiator, but was met was disappointment. "And the radiator's broken."

"Mmm," Was all Tsvetan had in reply, he was already drifting back to sleep, head lost in the cold side of the pillow. However, Alin had other ideas. He slipped back into bed and took Tsvetan in his arms, making him flinch.

"You're so cold," Tsvetan mumbled, "Can you wake me later?"

Alin chuckled and let go, but started running his cold hands down the back of Tsvetan's neck, making him shiver.

"Alin, just lemme sleep…"

However, Alin didn't stop, much to Tsvetan secret pleasure. Alin's callused fingers made their way down Tsvetan's neck and onto his chest, hands carefully caressing the spot where he proceeded to lay his head, hair tickling Tsvetan's nose. Tsvetan snuggled down further under the duvet, arms wrapped around his cuddly boyfriend. He closed his eyes again and felt himself drifting off again, sleep grabbing hold of his hand and pulling him down into the blissful abyss.

"Tsve. Tsvetan,"

Tsvetan opened his eyes again after what seemed like forever, or no time at all. Alin was right up in his face, red eyes inches close to his own.

"I have to get up now," Alin whispered sadly, giving Tsvetan a small peck on his forehead and rolling out of bed with reluctance. Tsvetan watched as Alin stretched in the semi darkness, clad only in his Romanian flag boxers. His honey coloured hair was a tangled, matted mess and his eyelids drooped with the aftereffects of sleep. Tsvetan propped himself up on one elbow and watched him blearily.

"Alin,"

"Yeah?"

"Can you open the shutters?"

Alin stared at Tsvetan as if he were mad. "Don't you want to get back to sleep? You don't have to get up because I am, you know."

Tsvetan shrugged. "Can you open them anyway?"

Alin laughed a little and moved towards the window, muttering "crazy idiot," under his breath, before reaching up and cracking the shutters open wide, letting the bright daylight stream through into the room, lighting it up with a golden brilliance.

Tsvetan sat and watched as the rays tangled up and around Alin's face and body, highlighting his beauty and making him glow with a brilliance that seemed to shine from within. Tsvetan felt as if he could sit there for hours, finding new ways to honour each moment spent in Alin's company, every moment appreciating the way his burgundy eyes glinted with mirth and liveliness, how soft his honey coloured hair was, how his fang always grazed Tsvetan's lower lip in a certain exhilarating way whenever they kissed, how fine and slender his hands were, covered in candle burns from times gone by, all lit up by the outside world which seemed to be calling Alin to it, away from Tsvetan.

"I don't want you to go," Tsvetan said suddenly, feeling the desperate longing burst out of his chest and form words.

Alin looked at him steadily, his eyes full of unsaid emotions that Tsvetan could read perfectly. He walked over to the bed and pulled Tsvetan gently out of the covers, setting his feet on the cold floorboards.

"I don't want to leave you either," Alin whispered, and just like that they were kissing again, softly and slowly, appreciating every moment. Tsvetan could feel nothing but Alin's slightly chapped lips and radiating body heat, which seemed to both warm him through from head to toe and melt him into a pool of pure, fiery love. Tsvetan became aware that Alin was running his thumb over his cheekbones, and so he brought his hands up from his sides and rested them on Alin's bare ribs, feeling his lungs expand every time he takes a life giving breath. The knowledge of their tiny existence suddenly dawned on Tsvetan in a rush, and he held on tighter to Alin, his anchor, his salvation. Alin sensed this and folded his arms around Tsvetan, moving his mouth away from Tsvetan's lips and trailed his kisses down Tsvetan's neck before stopping and resting his cheek on his shoulder. They stood there for a while, just holding each other tightly in the early morning daylight.

Finally, after what could be days or minutes or even years, Tsvetan spoke. "I think the daylight wants you just as much as I do."

Alin gave him one last tender kiss before detaching himself and making his way to the bathroom. When he reached the door he turned back and looked at Tsvetan, gaze full of indescribable emotions, pouring out of his every pore.

"Te iubesc Tsvetan."

"I az te obicham Alin."

The door clicked shut and Tsvetan lay back on the vacated bed, closing his eyes and letting out a deep breath. It was moments like these, he reflected, that are the least significant but stay the longest in your memory, pockets of happiness that stretch on forever, the pure love of two individuals who are ready to meet the daylight.

**End**

* * *

_A/N: Just a short one today. That was the closest thing to smut I have ever written, ye gods! What can I say? I love fluff and Snow Patrol._

_The Romanian and Bulgarian mean "I love you Tsvetan, I love you too Alin" because I am seriously unimaginative._

_Reviews are much appreciated. _

_-Stars._


	6. Chapter 6

**Stage Fright**

* * *

"Stop worrying, you'll be just fine!"

Alin looped his arm around Tsvetan's shaking shoulders, smiling as brightly as he possibly could in hope that he could spark a response in the Bulgarian's panicky eyes. Tsvetan was tightly winding the hem of his shirt around and around in his hands, stretching the material. Alin grabbed his hands to make him let go, fixing him with a motherly glare.

"You'll ruin your shirt if you do that."

Tsvetan shrugged and ceased, but continued to gaze fixatedly ahead. "I can't believe you are making me do this."

"It's too late to back out now," Alin said cheerfully, as if he was completely unaware of Tsvetan's current mind space, "You'll have to do it, for better or for worse!"

Tsvetan groaned, placing his head in his hands and hunching his shoulders. He hated waiting, particularly waiting in this badly lit, damp changing room for his turn to take the stage. If only Alin had never found out about his secret singing 'talent', he wouldn't be living this nightmare…

"Tsvetan, look at me." Tsvetan looked up, his eyes meeting Alin's. "I'm sorry if you feel that I forced you into this."

Tsvetan didn't say anything; he just gaped at Alin in blank shock. Of all the things he was expecting him to say, it wasn't this…

"But the truth is you have an incredible voice that I could listen to all day. And I feel like I am the only one who is appreciating it." Alin clasped Tsvetan's hands again, gazing at him fiercely. "You need people to realise what you could do,"

"I don't care about people," Tsvetan muttered, looking away.

"Yes, you do." Alin corrected. "But that's not why I think you should sing to them."

Tsvetan cocked his head, asking a silent question.

"When people realise what you can do, you will finally believe in yourself. Of all the people I want you to impress tonight, you are the most important."

"But I'm actually awful at singing… There is no way I will win this stupid competition!" Tsvetan protested weakly, causing Alin to grin widely.

"See what I mean?" Alin lightly flicked Tsvetan's nose gave him a look that screamed _I told you so._

At that moment, there was a knock and a runner poked her head around the door. "You're up next, so please make your way backstage."

The door clicked shut again and Tsvetan sprang to his feet as if propelled. "Holy fuuuuuck what am I going to do!?"

"You are going to get on that stage!" said Alin firmly, practically pushing Tsvetan out the door. "Now, do you remember what your singing teacher told you?"

"Breathe with your stomach, use your soft pallet," Tsvetan recited in a monotone. "Smile and keep your eyebrows up."

"Exactly. Now, are you all warmed up?"

Tsvetan made a few siren noises as he was pushed down the hallway, attracting stares from staff members. Alin couldn't help sticking his tongue out at them and laughing childishly when they gave him disapproving looks.

Finally they reached the stage door, a large, imposing black object that seemed to stare down at Tsvetan and reduce him to a pile of jelly. In a last minute panic, he turned back to Alin in order to… What? Ask him to help him escape?

Instead, Alin reached out and pulled him into a tight hug, massaging his back soothingly.

"Listen," Alin said quickly, knowing that their time together was limited. "It doesn't matter what happens on that stage tonight, or whatever stupid place you get."

"But-"

"All that matters," Alin said, breath hot on Tsvetan's ear, "Is that you fucking sing your heart out. And I'll be watching you mister, you can count on that."

"Do you promise?" Tsvetan sniffled.

"Promise." Said Alin confidently. "And I will be the one cheering and clapping the loudest when you finish."

Tsvetan laughed a strangled noise that sounded vaguely like a drowning cat. "You are so embarrassing."

Alin winked, and reached out towards the door handle, pulling the soundless door open towards him. "Now, get your ass onto that stage!"

Tsvetan nodded and stumbled into the darkness that was backstage, blinking a few times as his eyes adjusted enough to make out the figure hurrying towards him.

"Where have you been? You are just about to go on."

Tsvetan allowed himself to be pulled into position and given instructions about the microphone and where to go on and off. However, he wasn't properly listening. Instead Alin's words were going around and around in his head, phrases like _'fucking sing your heart out,' _and '_You are the most important'_.

_Oh Alin, _Tsvetan thought, _where the hell would I be without him?_

"Ok mate, you're up."

Tsvetan felt as if he was in a dream, walking on into the glaring lights and up to the microphone positioned at the front of the stage. He tried to scan the crowd for Alin's friendly face, but all he saw was darkness. He opened his mouth, which suddenly felt very dry.

"I'm Tsvetan Borisov," He said into the microphone, hearing his own voice echoing back at him, loud and clear. "And I would like to dedicate this song, Wonderall, to my boyfriend, Alin."

There was a faint murmuring in the crowd, but Tsvetan remained indifferent to it. The music had struck up, the soft guitar chords reaching into him and pulling something out, something that came out as a stream of sound, twisting and morphing into the words of the song.

"_Today is gonna be the day_

_That they're gonna throw it back to you_

_By now you should've somehow_

_Realized what you gotta do_

_I don't believe that anybody_

_Feels the way I do, about you now…"_

Tsvetan sang with gusto, hands steadily gripping the microphone as he stood, rooted to the spot. He was so exhilarated, adrenalin coursing through his body at an incredible pace.

"_And all the roads we have to walk are winding_

_And all the lights that lead us there are blinding_

_There are many things that I_

_Would like to say to you but I don't know how…"_

Alin's face was flashing in front of Tsvetan's eyes, laughing, crying, looking deep into his eyes and telling him that he believed in him.

"_Because maybe," _Tsvetan sang, _"You're gonna be the one that saves me,"_

Even though he already has-

"_And after all," _Tsvetan felt himself take a deep breath to sing the next line, lungs feeling as if they were full of raw emotion and passion, "_You're my wonderwall…"_

And just like that, it was over. The music faded and the crowd stared clapping, cheering, all for him. He closed his eyes and let the chaotic noise wash over him, knowing that somewhere in there was Alin's voice almost cracking with enthusiasm. He forced himself not to stay and scan the crowd for his face, and walked off the stage with unsteady legs that barely got him to the wings, where members of the stage crew thumped him on the back and congratulated him in hushed voices. Then he was ushered out a back door and into the audience, where he was instructed to sit quietly until all the acts had finished.

Tsvetan had only been sitting in his designated seat for five minutes before there was a commotion on the other end of the row; someone was making their way through the forest of legs, paying to attention to the glares aimed at them. Finally they reached where Tsvetan was sitting, and Tsvetan barely had time to register who the badly lit face belonged to before it's owner enveloped him in a bone crushing hug.

"Tsve, that was amazing, I am so proud of you!" Alin gushed, voice raised far too loudly. "You brought me to tears up there, you really did."

"Shhh!" said the couple sitting next to Tsvetan, pointing up at the stage, but Alin ignored them.

"That song you chose-"

"I meant every word," Tsvetan said firmly into Alin's ear. He felt on top of the world as Alin's face lit up like the sun. "Thank you Alin."

"For what?" Alin asked, confused.

"For believing me and proving me wrong. I don't care about who will win this damn competition, I'm just happy that I got up there and sang my best. And you were the person who got me up there in the first place."

Alin laughed, squeezing Tsvetan in a massive hug. "Well, I'm glad to know that dragging you into this kicking and screaming actually worked out!"

Tsvetan rolled his eyes and pulled Alin back down into his seat, avoiding more stares from the audience. Tsvetan felt that he had had enough publicity for one day.

* * *

**End**

* * *

_A/N: I couldn't figure out how to make the ending work, so sorry guys. Thanks to __**Dreamer of Impossible Dreams **__for giving me the idea for this oneshot, and thanks to Oasis for providing me with an awesome song that fit the moment. Even if I did cut a few verses out..._

_ www. youtube watch?v=6hzrDeceEKc_

_Updates will be less frequent from now on because school is demanding my attention again… Ah well. Feel free to leave a suggestion or tell me what you think!_

_-Stars._


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I tried to write this according to the original Bulgarian-Romanian legends about vampires and werewolves. I failed. No Balkan folklore lessons for you today… Nevertheless, this is a lot darker than anything else I have written in this series. You have been warned._

* * *

Tsvetan Borisov padded along the dark, deserted streets silently, ears pricked and alert. He couldn't be too careful around this city, small and quiet though it may seem. The citizens probably wouldn't take too kindly to seeing a full grown wolf prowling around the alleyways, even one who could turn back into a man when the time was right. He sniffed the air before turning the next corner, staying close to the shadows, slinking like a cat. In fact that was what he had been reduced to, a thieving ally cat with no choice but to prey on innocent animals. Tsvetan hated his lifestyle with a passion. Almost as much as he hated…

He sniffed the air again. Yes, there it was! The unmistakeable stink of…

"Vampire." he growled, flattening his ears. What the hell was a vampire doing in this dump of a city? More importantly, what was a damn vampire doing on _his turf?_

Tsvetan growled gently in the back of his throat, and started padding forwards, following his nose to the source of the stink of cold, dead flesh and fresh blood. He was going to chase this filth out of his god damn city if it's the last thing he does.

He broke into a run when he turned the next corner, paws thudding on the cobbles and shaggy fur streaming out behind him. He just felt so fucking _angry, _and so desperate for the release of all this rage bubbling up inside his gut, addling his brain and bringing out the wolf. He was angry at himself, at his pack, at this fucking city, and finally here was an excuse to vent it all out into the form of tearing some vampire scum limb from limb.

He turned the final corner and skidded to a halt, a hulking black wolf silhouetted against the waxing moon. He could see his enemy now, perched on a rooftop, hunched over something large and very, very dead. Tsvetan tasted blood in the back of his throat and felt his stomach growl with hunger. He had not eaten anything since the last gibbous moon. He did not enjoy the taste of vampire flesh, it is true, but anything would be better than this relentless hunger that was forced upon him by his own compassion.

He stalked closer to the roof, and let out a soft growl to alert the intruder that they were in serious trouble. He watched through slitted eyes as the vampire stood up gracefully and turned towards Tsvetan, before crouching down on their haunches and leaping into the air before landing soundlessly in front of Tsvetan's nose. Tsvetan snarled and glanced up at his opponent for the first time.

Well, that certainly wasn't what he had been expecting…

Tsvetan had heard that vampires were supposed to be horrific creatures, but this one completely shattered that image. Instead of being almost inhuman with slavering jaws and a deathly appearance, this one was strangely attractive. The vampire was about the same age as Tsvetan, and was dressed rather outlandishly in an outfit you might hope to find in a carnival, complete with a little hat with ribbons. His dark honey coloured hair fell messily down to his shoulders, and his eyes were soulless depths that perfectly matched the blood still smeared around his mouth. As Tsvetan watched, the vampire slowly wiped the blood away to reveal one very pointed fang.

"Hello, little werewolf." He said calmly.

"What are you doing here?" Tsvetan's voice sounded as if he hadn't used it in years. It came out of the wolf's throat in a growling mess, so it was almost unrecognisable.

"What am I doing here?" Much to Tsvetan's annoyance, the vampire laughed coolly and raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think you have the authority to ask that question, little werewolf? Shouldn't you be hunting with your pack out in the wild?"

Tsvetan refused to answer that question and stood his ground. "Shouldn't you be moaning around some local castle?"

"Touché," the vampire chuckled. He then sniffed and narrowed his eyes. "You don't smell like a city wolf though."

"I'm asking you to leave, before things get ugly." Tsvetan bared his teeth, trying hard to look as menacing as possible. "If I have to rip you into pieces, I will do so."

"You're rather violent, aren't you?"

"Only when I have to be." Tsvetan snarled. "You killed a human in my city, so you will have to pay the consequences."

The vampire scoffed at that, his upper lip curling in amusement. "It's not like you are preying on them anyway. I'll wager a guess that you haven't eaten since the start of the full moon." He cocked his head to one side, an obnoxious look on his features, which clearly said; _am I right? I'm right, aren't I?_

Tsvetan mentally shook off his ever constant feeling of knowing hunger. "So what? It's only for a few nights."

The vampire didn't answer, just ran a teasing tongue around the blood still lingering on his lips. He then wiped some blood still present on his shirt off with his middle finger, before raising it to his mouth and slowly sucking it off, eyes fixed on Tsvetan. Tsvetan felt himself grow hot under his fur, and he urged himself to remain a wolf and not give into his human brain. If he gave in, he would turn back and become an easy target for this vampire to prey upon.

"I'm giving you one last chance to get out of here."

"Only one? Oh little werewolf, you're too kind." The vampire grinned lazily, re adjusting his hat; "But I'm afraid I will have to decline that offer."

Tsvetan leaped. However, instead of crashing his forepaws into the vampire's chest, he almost smashed face first into the wall with the force of his jump. The vampire was no longer there.

"You missed." The voice came from behind him, so Tsvetan whirled around and swiped wildly, before realising that, once again, the vampire had moved from his original spot.

"Why you little-"

"Tut tut, watch your language." The vampire was now walking along one of the surrounding rooftops, arms shoved in his pockets. "Someone might have to teach you a lesson~"

Before Tsvetan knew what was happening, he had been knocked backwards by the force of what felt like cannon fire. His back hit the ground with a painful jolt, and he felt himself being pinned to the ground, front paws useless.

The face of his opponent loomed over his, red eyes almost black in the dark and glinting with an intense light. Tsvetan felt one slender hand scrape its nails across his muzzle and closed his eyes, waiting for the fatal bite.

A breathless voice vibrated against his furry ear. "I'm full of adrenaline now, aren't you? I wonder… Should I kill you now, or wait until you turn back into a human?"

Once again, Tsvetan felt anger boil inside his gut. He heaved himself onto his side, shaking off the vampire onto the ground and rolling over and springing to his feet. He trapped the vampire under one paw and stood over him, feeling his jaws twist into something resembling a grin of triumph.

"Neither."

Tsvetan drew back one powerful paw, ready to rip this vampire right down the middle. But just before he delivered the final blow, he suddenly felt very cold.

A shadow had fallen over his body.

The light of the moon was blocked out.

All Tsvetan could see was the expectant look on the vampire's face before his vision went completely black with pain.

His body was burning, shrinking, his bones liquid fire as they reformed themselves, his fur falling away. He could hear himself screaming, a sound that started off as a howl and morphed as he did, sound twisting and changing at an alarming rate. His body flopped onto the ground, utterly helpless.

"Are you going to kill me?" Tsvetan chocked out, his teeth still adjusting. "Because now would be the time to do it." He opened his eyes.

The vampire was on top of him again, eyes gleaming with a strange light. He opened his mouth to show off his fangs, and move in.

"Oh, I don't think I am going to do that." He whispered, and jerked Tsvetan to his feet, slamming him into a wall with supreme strength. Nose to nose, they stared at each other, Tsvetan's heart still pounding from their fight. "Not while I can do this."

Cold, hungry lips smashed onto Tsvetan's with intense ferociously, hands pinning him against the wall by his shoulders. For a moment, Tsvetan couldn't move with the shock, but then was jerked back into reality. Whatever this vampire's game was, he couldn't allow him to gain the upper hand. Tsvetan kissed back equally as furiously, teeth clashing on fangs. He felt a tongue try to shove its way into his mouth and he beat it back with his own, a fight of passion that he was determined to win. The hands clenching his shoulders made their way down his bare chest, and he took advantage of that and grabbed the vampire's waist and yanked him closer before moving his own hands down past his hips to grip around his thighs. The vampire pulled at his hair, he licked the other's bottom lip. The vampire responded by biting Tsvetan's lip with his fang, drawing blood. Tsvetan momentarily gasped in pain. The vampire sucked the wound gently.

"You taste sweet," he said, grinning wildly.

"I bet I do," replied Tsvetan, before grabbing the vampire's head and pulling him again. This time the vampire's strength seemed to return, and he pushed Tsvetan up the wall so his feet weren't touching the ground. Tsvetan flailed for a moment before wrapping his legs around the vampire's waist and pressed himself to his body. Wild, disconnected thoughts were flying around and around his head, too fast to comprehend. All his senses were focussed on this strange vampire, his lips hard on his, his fangs scraping against his, his tongue exploring the inside of Tsvetan's hot, delicious mouth. He let out a small moan, body aching, yearning. He was in a dream, a nightmare, some kind of void in-between. He shouldn't be enjoying this. He just shouldn't.

"Stop."

The vampire stopped and looked up, much to Tsvetan's surprise.

"I can't do this."

Tsvetan's voice was far too quiet.

"I have- I have to be going now."

Why was it so hard to get these words out?

"Don't come back, or I _will _kill you."

He pushed the vampire away and started walking off down the street, feeling cold all over.

"Is that a promise, little werewolf?" His voice floated after Tsvetan, haunting him. He couldn't help it, he turned around.

"My name is Tsvetan Borisov. And that was one solemn promise indeed."

And with that, Tsvetan took off; fleeing away from the boy left standing on a street by himself. Tsvetan felt the wolf return as he ran, eager to change back this time, and seek shelter in the shining moonlight.

* * *

_A/N: Urgh, I am so sorry, that was awful. OOC-ness and shit make-out scenes. Conclusion, I cannot write UST to save my life._

_BTW there are werewolf legends in Bulgaria, I didn't just pull that out of nowhere. Hopefully this wasn't too hideously cliche._

_Ah well, I tried._

_Reviews make my day worthwhile!_

_-Stars._


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Ok guys, here goes. This is the first instalment of my first ever historical fic. I'm experimenting quite a lot, aren't I? This is about the Treaty of Craovia in WWII, and I hope it turned out okay. This is going to continue as a multi-shot (I don't know how many parts it's going to have) but every part will be different events in WWII. And, of course, most of the parts will be inspired by Snow Patrol songs. I swear, that band is just perfect for RoBul. The songs for this evening are The Finish Line and Make This Go On Forever._

www. youtube watch?v=80yBxqWeuIk

www. youtube watch?v=aTwgqIQlqJY

_Well, here goes…_

* * *

**1940, September 7**

Bulgaria sat down heavily on the ground next to his neighbour and sighed. He glanced sideways, catching a glimpse of Romania's dark expression staring off into the distance. The other Balkan nation was twisting his hat around and around in his hands, looking to be on the verge of tears.

"Romania?" Bulgaria said cautiously, wanting to comfort his friend but knowing that it would not be welcome.

"What is it, Bul…?" Romania replied softly.

"Are you OK?" Bulgaria knew that it was a stupid question, but he honestly could think of nothing else to say.

"Do you think I'm ok?" was Romania's sharp remark. "Bulgaria, do you realise what I'm being forced to do? What _you _are forcing me to do?"

"I have no choice!" Bulgaria suddenly yelled, standing up. "You have to give up Southern Dobruja, it's the only way!"

"The only way for you!" Romania retorted, his words like a whip lash on Bulgaria's back. "Didn't you even consider what it might do to me?"

"It's the only way…" Bulgaria repeated softly, trying to ignore the tears threatening to run down his cheeks. "My boss has to stay in power, or I will be crushed in this stupid, endless war!"

"What about me? What will happen to my people when I give back Southern Dobruja to you?"

Bulgaria could do nothing but shake his head. "I… I don't know."

"I can't believe you did this," Romania spat at Bulgaria, his face contorted in anger. That face that Bulgaria had known always had turned against him in anger. "I thought you were my friend. Now, it seems that I don't have any at all."

Bulgaria was silent at that, and went back to lying on his back, ear to the ground. He tried to block everything out, everything but the noise of the insects in the trees and the warmth of the ground next to his ear. It was surprisingly easy, to pretend that it was all a magic trick, all a dream.

"Bulgaria!"

He opened his eyes at the deep, commanding voice resonating through the silence. The large form of Germany was striding towards him, a scowl present on his face. Bulgaria braced himself inwardly. He had taken a daring step, making Germany do his dirty work for him. He couldn't bring himself to take Southern Dobruja back himself, he wasn't strong enough, in both physical and emotional sense.

"Bulgaria, I want you to do something for me."

"Do what?" Bulgaria said warily. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Romania cowering slightly behind him, red eyes flashing with fire that was suppressed by fear.

"I need you and Romania to sign a treaty. You are to break all ties with him, to force him out from your life, understand?" Germany turned to Romania, who jumped slightly at the direct address. "You are to do the same thing. I want no Romanian citizen in Bulgaria, and vice versa. Is that understood?"

Bulgaria didn't respond for a moment. His heart was fluttering wildly, or was it going numb? He couldn't leave Romania; he wouldn't be complete without him…

"Bulgaria, if you do this I will accept you as a friend, not a target," Germany continued, clearly noticing the look on Bulgaria's face. "Is that not what you want?"

Yes, it was what Bulgaria wanted. He wanted to remain neutral, but he also wanted to remain alive. He was horribly aware of how weak he was, and he hated it. He hated it so much that he wanted to scream aloud, he hated it so much that he was prepare to make the greatest of sacrifices.

…But why did Romania have to be one of these sacrifices?

Romania must've seen the look Bulgaria's face, because he suddenly stood up and faced him, eyes flashing. "I'll sign that fucking treaty," he told Germany, eyes never leaving Bulgaria's face. "I don't want anything to do with _him _anymore."

Bulgaria met his gaze, trying desperately to convey all his emotions through his stare, trying desperately to make Romania understand. _I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I wish it wasn't you… _

Romania was part of the Axis, they were sure to protect him, wouldn't they?

Wouldn't they?

* * *

The Treaty of Craiova was signed later that day, amongst cheering crowds and happy faces that smiled and clapped when Bulgaria finished filling the hideous piece of paper in front of him. To him, the parade was sad, possibly with one single balloon that was floating away. He didn't know where to look; everything seemed so dark, so colourless. It was a small step in this war, yes, but it hurt him deep inside to do it.

Romania was about to turn away when Bulgaria caught him by the arm, and started speaking fast into his ear.

"Please don't let this turn into something it's not," he whispered urgently. "We've been through so much worse than this before, what's so different this time?"

Romania glared at him, but his glare was different this time, heavy with sadness. "You know that it's much more than last time. We need to spend some time apart…" He trailed off, choking on his words slightly, "for both our sakes."

"I know what I did was wrong," Bulgaria said desperately. "And I can never been as sorry as you think I should be. But please understand, I still lo-"

"I don't want to hear it, Bul," Romania said, sounding bone weary. "Please, don't say that. This is a war; love has absolutely nothing to do with it."

"I wish this will just end," Bulgaria suddenly muttered, putting his head in his hands.

To his surprise, Romania reached out and gently lifted his hands away from his face, brushing aside a clump of hair as he did so. "So do I," he whispered tenderly, before placing a brief, sweet kiss on Bulgaria's trembling lips. Before Bulgaria even had time to respond however, he was gone.

Bulgaria watched him leave soundlessly, rooted to the spot. No words of protest escaped his lips, because they all melted before they had a chance. All he could do was wish the best for Romania, and pray that they both come out alive together.

* * *

_A/N: In 1940 Soviet Foreign Minister Vyacheslav Molotov demanded that Romania return the lands he had taken. Hitler and the Bulgarian leader, Tsar Boris, sided with Molotov and made Romania return their lost lands. Bulgaria regained Southern Dobruja by threatening Germany that they will have Moscow take back Southern Dobruja if they do not do so first. Hitler then forced Romania and Bulgaria to sign a treaty to participate in a population exchange. Once Romania gives back Southern Dobruja, a section of land between their boarders, all the ethnically Romanian citizens residing there would have to pack their bags and go back to Romania. The same was to happen with the Bulgarians in Northern Dobruja. Over 110,000 Romanians and 65,000 were forced to leave their homes. _

_If I got anything wrong or messed anything up, I am really sorry. I hope this didn't suck._

_-Stars_


	9. Chapter 9

**Operation Tidal Wave**

**1943, August 1**

* * *

Romania knew that he was in trouble the moment he received a message from Bulgaria. A soldier had poked his head out of the radio room and called him, declaring that this was a matter of utmost importance.

"Sir, we are receiving a call from Bulgaria," the young man said nervously, removing the headphones from his ears to speak to his nation properly. "They- I mean he- wants to speak with you."

Romania nodded and placed the heavy equipment on his own head, dismissing the boy with a wave of his hand. He closed his eyes and waited for the static to die down and shape into something resembling words.

"Romania, is that you?"

Romania let out a little sigh of relief, and twisted a knob on the side of his receiver carefully. "What do you want, Bul?"

"Listen, you're in trouble." Bulgaria was speaking fast now, his voice weaving in and out of the static. "America has sent out his planes-"

"He's going to bomb me!?" Romania reeled back in shock, attracting stares from the other officers around him. He quickly forced a smile and turned back to Bulgaria's message. "Aha, nice to know that I matter that much," he joked weakly.

"Ro, they are bombing your oil refinery in Ploiești," Bulgaria continued.

"Oh. For a second there, I thought I was something more than just a strategic point…" Romania said."

"Ro, this is serious! America has 177 B-24's heading your way _right now!"_

"Okay, okay, fine… I'll get the air force ready," Romania grumbled, trying desperately to ignore the pure fear that was currently flooding his body, "If I die, be sure to remember me fondly, alright?"

"…Ro, that's not funny." Bulgaria said softly.

"What is, anymore?"

"Just get those planes," Bulgaria ordered, voice sounding taught. "I'll do what I can to help you, I promise."

"Really?" the hopeful question had escaped Romania's lips before he had time to quell it, before he had time to quell his own emotions. He shouldn't be feeling like this, he had broken off all ties with the nation, remember…?

The radio waves cut out Bulgaria's reply, but when Romania replaced the headset it was with a new fire in his heart.

* * *

"Alright, listen up!"

Romania paced up and down the ranks of his assembled fighter pilots, staring at each of their faces in turn. _Not enough,_ he thought to himself, _52 aren't enough to fight off 177. Am I sending these men to their deaths?_

"The Allies are aiming for the oil refineries. On no account are we going to let them! Today will be Romania's victory!" Romania raised his arm and the other soldiers did the same, their rousing yells echoing in Romania's ears. _The cries of the dead men last heard on the ground…_

"I'll be flying with you today-" He broke off as a cry of protest went up, but he held up his hand for silence and continued, "Because I want to prove that this country is still strong, that _I _am still strong. And _nobody," _he said, thinking of a familiar cynical face, "Is going to convince me otherwise."

* * *

_This will not end well._

That voice was constantly nagging at the back of Romania's skull, and he impatiently shook his head to clear it. He sat in the cockpit of the fighter plane next to the pilot and fiddled anxiously with the ribbons of his hat while he waited for them to take off. Again, he felt his thoughts drifting back to Bulgaria. Would Bulgaria really be able to come to his aid as promised? He knew for a fact that his fellow Axis member was currently very weak, especially with his air force. So why did he assure Romania that he had his back?

"Excuse me, sir?"

Romania looked across to the pilot sitting by his side, who was suddenly regretting his decision to directly address his superior. Romania smiled mischievously, in an attempt to make the atmosphere friendlier. _After all, when you're heading into battle, we might as all fight as buddies, eh?_

"Yes-" Romania checked hastily- "Corporal?"

The man nodded, looking entirely shell shocked. Romania took a closer look at his face and was shocked, but not completely surprised, to see a much younger person than he expected looking back at him.

"Yes sir. Corporal Anton Radacanu, sir." The boy tried to do a salute, but he ended up letting go of the controls and hitting his headset.

"How old are you?" Romania blurted out.

"I'm seventeen, sir!" Anton puffed out his chest, looking proud. "I'm one of the youngest fighter pilots ever to be promoted to corporal!"

_Seventeen… _Seventeen was far too young for someone to be heading into battle. Romania felt sick to the stomach as he thought about how Anton's family would've been so proud to see their son doing so well, only to be told later that he was no longer continuing his life. _Seventeen years is no life at all._

"But sir," Anton said, clearly wanting to get back to his earlier query, "I heard a rumour that we will be receiving backup from Bulgaria. Is that true?"

Romania couldn't bring himself to look at Anton's hopeful face. "That's what Bul said, at least…" he mumbled, crossing his fingers under his seat. And Bulgaria wouldn't lie to him, would he?

* * *

"Sir, we've got incoming!"

Anton's shout jolted Romania to his senses just in time to see a group of B-24's flying straight towards them. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit this was a really bad idea…"

"Sir, brace yourself! We are engaging battle now!"

Romania didn't need telling twice. We watched, wide eyed, as his soldiers attacked the bombers from all sides, weaving in and out. As he watched, a plane to his right swerved to avoid a torrent of bullets, and fired right back at the American plane, bringing it down. To his left, one of his own was brought down by two Americans. As Romania watched, the engine caught fire and blazed down to the ground, the screams of whoever was inside completely inaudible by the sounds of battle. The pain of having one of his own citizens' die was always physically felt by Romania, but he learnt to endure it. The constant pain of mortal lives being snuffed out is something a country has to deal with, but this war has been nothing but constant agony.

There was a jolt as Anton suddenly jerked the plane to the right to avoid an attack. Romania watched in fascinated horror as the boy- no, the man- expertly steered the plane out of danger before flipping it upside down in a half turn to fire a round of bullets at the belly of the enemy plane. The plane promptly burst into flames and spiralled into a downward descent.

"That was a close one!' Anton yelled in relief above the noise, "Wait, where is it going?"

Romania watched as the plane they had just shot down plummeted towards a large, ugly building. "That's the women's prison!"

The plane hit the prison with a deafening crash, followed by an explosion that almost knocked them out of the air. The bombs that were being carried within the plane had gone off. Romania felt his entire body scream in pain and he doubled up in his chair, sweaty hair flopping into his eyes.

"Sir, are you alright?!"

"Just focus on flying Corporal!" Romania snapped, not wanting to look. Please, don't make him look at what was happening. "We can't let those bastards get to the oil refineries."

"…No."

"What?" Romania looked across in shock. Anton was staring straight ahead, eyes on the fire filled sky. "No. I'm not shooting any more people today."

"But-"

Anton turned, and Romania could see that his eyes were full of anger and despair. "There might be people still alive in that prison. We have to help them!"

Romania opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. Yes, it was their fault that the plane crashed into the prison. But would there be any survivors?

"I don't want anyone else to die today. Not by my hands."

Romania buried his face. _My hands are your hands. Everyone here has died because of me. If we lose this battle, then what use am I to the Axis? What use am I at all?_

… _And where is Bulgaria?_

"We are here to protect Ploiești, nothing else." Romania said, his voice dead and expressionless. "I will not have you abandoning your mission and throwing away your life, understood?"

"…Yes sir," said Anton, but Romania could hear the anger in his voice. Because what kind of choice did they have, to carry on killing other people to protect some oil, or to try to save their fellow Romanians who they had just effectively killed? It was obvious what would be the most moral thing to do, but war changed that. War changed everything.

* * *

Romania walked slowly through the ashes left lying on the ground, staring up at the sky which was full of smoke. They had been victorious, but he still felt so undeniably empty. Behind him, Anton and the other fighter pilots watched warily as he made his way through the ruins, trying desperately to ignore the tear tracks making their way down their nation's face. Eventually, Anton came up and cautiously placed a hand on Romania's shoulder, comforting him silently. Romania turned around and met Anton's eyes with such despair and thwarted hope that Anton could not bear to look away.

"He didn't come… I thought that… After all this time…"

Romania suddenly choked on his words, scanning their surroundings. "I've done some bad things, said some awful things… But people are dying and he _promised_-"

Anton didn't say anything; he just folded Romania into a hug, much to the gasps of their onlookers. He could feel his country shaking in his arms, and suddenly was incredibly aware of how fragile he was. Beneath all his cheeriness and optimistic nature, Romania was hideously damaged beyond repair. They might have won this particular fight, but the war still continued, with everyone's lives hanging by the tiniest thread, even Romania's own.

"T-thank you…" Romania whispered, his voice trembling.

"We better get back," Anton said, gesturing to the skies, "There's nothing left to see here."

"Yes, you're right," Romania agreed, detaching himself with dignity. "We must inform the public of your victory."

"They aren't going to take you down that easily," Anton said, trying to coax a smile out of his nation.

"Definitely not," Romania laughed. "We didn't need Bulgaria's help after all."

* * *

Bulgaria was waiting for Romania when he landed, face set in a stony expression. Romania could recognise that mop of black hair anywhere, even from inside a fighter plane. Carefully, he composed his features before stepping out, making sure that all evidence that he had been crying was eradicated.

"Well done," was all Bulgaria said when Romania walked towards him. Romania couldn't help noticing that his gaze was fixed on the ground. "Congratulations on your victory."

"Thanks," said Romania in a monotone. He kept staring Bulgaria full in the face, daring him to look up and meet his eyes. "Turns out I don't need you after all, eh?"

Bulgaria said nothing, just shuffled his feet slightly on the tarmac. Of course Romania understood, his air force was too weak to come to his aid, but that didn't stop the liquid pain and rage from coursing through his veins.

"Yeah..." Bulgaria said. "Mind you, I took care of the ones you let go."

"You did what?" Romania had started walking away at that point, but he turned around in shock to face Bulgaria. "What did you do, shoot them down once they got close to your border? No don't say anything, that shifty look of yours says it all."

"I tried-"

"_I don't care."_ Romania practically spat in Bulgaria's face, eyes ablaze.

"Ro-"

"I've had enough. I've had enough of this," Romania gestured to all the fighter planes surrounding them, bearing battle scars, "I've had enough of this whole fucking war. Just as I thought I could trust you again, you let me down. This war is changing us, Bul!" Romania grabbed Bulgaria by the shoulders, almost shaking him with emotion. "It's changing how we think, how we act, and I hate it! I hate it so much…"

Bulgaria reached up and carefully lifted Romania's clenched hands off his shoulders, before placing them around his waist and embracing him tightly. "So do I," he whispered. "And that's why we have to go through this alone. For our people."

Images flashed through Romania's mind, images of Anton, the women who died in the prison, the countless others who had laid down their lives in his name. Romania said nothing; because he knew in his heart of hearts that what Bulgaria was saying this was the undeniable truth. So when Bulgaria started walking away, he didn't try to call him back. He just watched him go.

* * *

_A/N: Operation Tidal Wave was an American mission to bomb Ploiești, the Romanian oil refineries. The Romanian's won that particular battle but suffered many casualties, including the destruction of a nearby women's prison, only 40 of whom survived. Bulgaria didn't have the strength to repel this attack, but they shot down 3 returning Allied bombers at their boarder. _

_Most of Bulgaria's involvement was out of my own head, I'm afraid. Sorry if any of this is historically inaccurate._

_Did anyone recognise Anton Radacanu from my other RoBul stories, __**Tata and Bashta**__ and __**Our Dysfunctional, Homosexual, Wonder Family**__? Yes, he is the AU grown up version of Alin and Tsvetan's adopted son! __ I think you can probably expect to see more of him later on._

_Speaking of which, this is pretty much my experimental fic, so if you guys have any themes or ideas you want me to try, please go ahead and tell me! For example, do you think I should do any genderbending? _

_I think this is the last of my WWII stories for now. I have no idea about the order I am writing these things in…_

_Reviews make me dance around like a lunatic singing the SnK theme song. I do not lie._

_-Stars_


	10. Chapter 10

**Earthquake**

For Tsvetan, the day was the normal, boring kind of day that seemed to drag on forever. An uneventful Friday that felt more like a Monday, with the weekend so close yet so far. As he struggled through period after period of teachers droning on, endless note taking and equations, he tried his best not to fall asleep right there and then.

"Tsvetan."

Someone was poking his arm persistently, and he brushed them off.

"Tsveeeetaaaaan…. Tsvetan!"

"What?" Said Tsvetan irritably, lifting his head off his desk to glower at the boy sitting next to him. Alin was poking him insistently with the nub of his pencil, making a pattern on his arm with graphite dots. "Don't do that!"

Alin pouted but stopped nevertheless. "Do you have an answer for number 42?"

"Hell no." Tsvetan stared again at his Latin textbook, as if hoping that it would morph into a language he could actually understand. "Beats me why we have to learn a dead language."

"It's not dead!" Tsvetan looked across the classroom, where a small ginger boy sat with his peers. "They speak Latin in Ladonia!"

"Yeah, well, how many people live in Ladonia? Four?" Tsvetan rolled his eyes in exasperation. "You're so lucky Alin; at least your native language was deprived from this…"

"That still doesn't mean that I can understand _Gilbertus est iratus ad rusticos _though," Alin moaned, burying his head in his arms. "How long do we have left of this period?"

Tsvetan checked his watch. "Five minutes."

"Excellent."

Tsvetan went back to doodling on his textbook, waiting patiently for the bell to ring.

* * *

"-I would drop Latin, but next year we get to go on a classics trip around Europe, which I really want to do. What do you think, Tsve?"

"Hmm?" Tsvetan looked up from his phone distractedly, "sorry, what was that?"

"I _said _I really want to go on that classics trip where we go to Europe! I mean, anywhere better than here…"

Tsvetan just nodded and kept walking, letting Alin prattle on about his irritation about living in such a boring country. "I mean, it's so boring! I want some excitement in my life, y'know?"

"Yeah…"

They were walking past Mr Łukasiewicz's classroom when it happened. He was wincing at the loud pop music blasting from inside. It was so loud, he though, that he could almost feel the floor shaking…

Suddenly, the sound of screaming spilt the air around Tsvetan. Student's everywhere were running towards the doorways, some clinging onto the walls of the narrow hall. Tsvetan had only a moment to register this when the floor beneath his feet started shaking violently, as if the building was a wild pony trying to buck him off. The entire school was swaying side to side, and plaster was cracking off the walls.

"EARTHQUAKE!"

"TSVETAN, GET DOWN!"

Something hard crashed into Tsvetan from behind and pulled him into a corner next to the lockers, pinning him against the wall. Tsvetan looked up to see Alin's face, wild with terror. "Cover your head and stay down!"

Terrified, Tsvetan did as he was told. The ground was a monster, roaring as it shook itself with such vigour. The world seemed to be splitting in two, the creaking from the walls and the screaming and the rumbling and even the music still blasting from the classroom was all that he could hear. He could feel Alin holding him tightly, crouched together against the wall, surrounded by their classmates.

_This is it, _Tsvetan thought, _this is the end…_

Suddenly he was being pulled to his feet and dragged over the still quaking ground into a nearby classroom. He had barely time to notice what seemed like everyone who had been present on the third floor hiding under the tall desks before he was pushed under one himself and told to stay there. Alin was still with him, and he gripped his hand tight as they both assumed the turtle position by curling up into ball and held their heads protectively.

"Is it over?" asked a timid year nine who was crouched next to them. She was wild eyed and very small, clutching a copy of _Pride and Prejudice _to her chest as if it could save her from this hellish nightmare.

Alin patted her on the hand reassuringly. "Almost," he said, "It's almost over."

The girl immediately whipped out her phone and started keying in a number, still crouched low on the ground. "Vash, are you alright!? I'm fine, don't worry…"

"Tsvetan," Alin whispered, shaking his shoulder carefully. Tsvetan turned his head and looked at him, eyes red and full of despair. "Are you okay?"

"I don't ever want to do that again…" Tsvetan muttered, and before he knew it, Alin had enfolded him into a bone crushing hug. Even though the shaking had finally stopped, Tsvetan still felt his body quivering in Alin's arms, a victim of pure and uncontrollable fear.

The sound of the evacuation bell tore through the sudden silence, alerting all the students that they had to leave. They all fled out the door and down the stairs in a tide, Tsvetan and Alin caught in its wake until they reached the field, the safest place in case there was another quake.

Tsvetan noticed that Alin was looking increasingly nervous as he scanned the crowds of students. He reached out to grab Alin's hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "What's wrong?"

"I can't see my brother," Alin whispered, checking and double checking the mass ahead. "And I can't get through to his phone…"

Tsvetan reached out and hugged him, "I'm sure he's fine."

"Yeah, but what if he's not?! What if he was in the computer labs and was knocked unconscious by the PCs or something? What if he was up on level 5-"

"Don't think like that. Thinking like that isn't going to help at all." Tsvetan said firmly, steering Alin into the crowd. "We'll find him, just you wait!"

"Find who?" A new voice rang out as the figure of Elizabeta pushed her way through the crowd towards them. "Oh, thank God you two are alright!" She pulled them both into a hug, and to Tsvetan's surprise, Alin accepted it without question.

"Is everyone else OK?" Tsvetan asked hurriedly, trying hard not to look at the tear tracks on his friend's cheeks. Elizabeta's voce was trembling slightly when she answered, but she managed to hold herself tall and proudly all the same.

"Everyone's fine. Gilbert is looking after poor little Matthew and Roddy is arguing with the teachers about saving his piano from further damage, but I doubt he will be allowed."

"Eliza, where were you?" Alin asked softly, also noticing his childhood frienemy's emotional state. "At the time when the earthquake struck?"

Elizabeta took a little time before answering, as if she was trying to control the tremor in her voice. "T-the fifth floor. In the elevator."

"WHAT?" Alin stared at her, aghast. "Hell, that must've been terrifying!"

Elizabeta nodded, gaze hard. "Yeah, but I'm fine, and that's what matters. I just hope that I'll be in a safe place when the next one hits…"

_The next one. _Tsvetan felt his stomach plummet in horror as he remembered all the science lessons he has sat through on earthquakes. _With an earthquake this big, there are bound to be aftershocks. _

"There he is!" Alin suddenly yelled, pointing through the crowd at a small figure dressed in the PE uniform. "ANDRE!"

Tsvetan watched as his best friend ran forward to embrace his brother, tears of worry threatening to make their way down his cheeks. Andre looked embarrassed as he fought his overly affectionate brother off, but looked grateful at his concern all the same.

"Hey, are you okay with getting a ride home and all that?" It took Tsvetan a while to realise that Elizabeta's question was directed at him.

"H-Home?" he asked, reactions slowed by shock and fear.

Elizabeta nodded kindly. "Didn't you hear? The teacher's say we can go home now. I'm getting a ride with Mr Vargas, what about you?"

"I don't know," Tsvetan mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. He had been too preoccupied with thoughts of the upcoming apocalypse to worry about getting home. "Can I come with you?"

"I'm sure Mr Vargas won't mind," Elizabeta said, grabbing his arm and steering him towards a teacher waiting by a car with a couple of other students.

"Wait! What about Alin and Andre?" Tsvetan struggled out of Elizabeta's grip, pointing back in their direction. "We can't leave them!"

"Then we'll take them with us! Go on, bring them over."

Tsvetan wasted no time in dragging the two brothers over towards the car, where their Latin teacher waited patiently. He had a quick discussion with Alin about the fact that neither of his parents was home at the moment and he didn't' have a key, which was resolved by Alin's suggestion that he come home with them and stay for a while. Tsvetan grabbed at the opportunity at once, extremely grateful.

* * *

The ride to Alin's house was an extremely tense affair. Mr Vargas kept up a constant worried chatter about how he hoped his grandkids were alright, them being in preschool at the moment and all, and how he's going to go pick them up after he drops all you students off, etc etc. Tsvetan was only half listening to him; he was staring outside the window at the packed streets outside.

"Wow, I've never seen the city so busy," Alin said softly in his ear. "Everyone is trying to get out, I suppose."

Tsvetan silently agreed, watching a woman talk anxiously into her mobile as a group of office workers evacuated their building. Standing opposite was a group of schoolgirls, all huddled in a bunch at a car park, evidently waiting for someone to pick them up.

Tsvetan checked his phone for the earthquake updates, and was shocked to see that there had already been about ten aftershocks. The measurement for the original was constantly changing, sometimes it was measured as a 6.9, other a 6.4, and so on. Suddenly, Tsvetan felt a hand slide into his own and give it a reassuring squeeze. He looked up to see Alin looking at him in concern, but he said nothing, just accepted the gesture.

When they finally arrived at Alin's house, Andre immediately sprinted out of the car and unlocked the door, bolting inside without bothering to close it behind him. Alin laughed a little at that, trying to coax a smile out of Tsvetan.

"He'll be under his bed sheets gorging himself on chocolate by now," Alin said, holding the door open for Tsvetan. "What kind of thing do you want to do while you're here?"

Tsvetan shrugged. "Hide?"

"That can be arranged."

However, they had only made it to Alin's bedroom when and aftershock struck, rattling Alin's ornaments and shifting the ground under Tsvetan's feet. Panicked, Alin pulled Tsvetan under his computer desk with him, holding on tightly to the chair leg as they waited for the worst to pass.

"When will this hell be over?" Alin moaned as he untangled his cramped limbs from under the desk and flopped down onto his bed. Hesitantly, Tsvetan joined him, feeling his body tense up as he felt the bed rock underneath him.

"God only knows…" Tsvetan said, curling up into a protective little ball. "Fuck geology."

"Fuck the earth," Said Alin.

"Fuck this fear," Tsvetan suddenly shivered and felt Alin's arms wrap around him. They were so close, curled up tightly against each other, a protective barrier against whatever the world decided to throw at them next. "I'm sacred, Alin."

"I know," Alin's voice was a soft breath of warm air against his neck.

"It's not like anyone has died though. So many people have been through worse than us," Tsvetan said, trying very hard to convey his feelings so Alin understood. "Does that make me pathetic?"

Alin didn't answer for a while; he just pulled Tsvetan closer to his body and stroked his hair consolingly. Finally, he spoke. "Fear is something that everyone has to suffer through, whether it's about death or spiders or even earthquakes. Fear isn't the same thing as hope or love or life, or anything else that devastates you when it is lost. Fear is knowing that, however well off your life is, it can come crashing down around your ears at any moment and you can lose everything. And if you weren't afraid of that, I would say that you aren't human.  
And I'm scared too Tsve, I am well and truly terrified. The fragility of my world and my own existence has just been shown to me in a blink of an eye, but that's not what I'm scared of. I'm scared of losing everything, losing my family, my home, losing you. Today, that fear has become a sudden, looming reality and it's all I can do not to hide away and wait for the end."

Tsvetan turned around in Alin's embrace and faced him, both of their tear-stained cheeks centimetres away from each other. He was so close that he could count every one of Alin's sandy eyelashes, clumped together with salt. In that moment, they had never felt more intimate.

"I'll wait with you," Tsvetan whispered, voice trembling. "I-I'm scared of losing you too."

Alin said nothing, just brought his hand up rest it on Tsvetan's head, and brought him closer so their foreheads were touching. Their uneven breaths mingled in the sudden dim light - the power had cut out.

"Tsvetan?"

"Mmm?"

"Once this hell is over and we haven't died a horrible death, will you go to Europe with me?"

Tsvetan opened his eyes and peered at Alin's face. "You do realise you can never escape disaster, right?"

"Yeah… But at least you'll be with me."

Tsvetan closed his eyes again and snuggled closer, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and leave everything behind. "We'll get through this together Al. I promise."

**End.**

* * *

_A/N: I don't know how many of you know this, but two weeks ago (exactly), a large earthquake struck New Zealand and was followed by a ton of aftershocks (I don't know how many but it's probably over 300 by now). We suffered no casualties but we have had lots of minor damage and one house has collapsed. Now, a couple of years ago the "earthquake safe" city of Christchurch suffered massive damage and loss of over 200 lives in an earthquake which wasn't much bigger than the one we just had. My own city is extremely earthquake prone, having been built on two major fault lines, so everyone knows that we will be next. When the latest earthquake hit, all I could think about was how this was it, the upcoming apocalypse. This one-shot is about my own experience, told through Tsvetan's eyes. Romania is a mixture of all my friends, except in the last bit because I am forever alone *sulks in an emo corner*._

_Please don't think that I wrote this for attention or for pity. I wrote this because I think that everyone has a right to feel pure, honest-to-god fear and that they have the right to express it. This has been basically summed up in Alin's speech. If you are sitting there, having been through much worse than I have, I'm sorry that I'm making this harmless earthquake such a big deal. I have lived quite a sheltered life, and I wanted to turn my moment of fear into a piece of fiction. Sorry if it offends._

_Notes:_

_Andre – Moldova_

_Latin is an awesome language. 'Gilbertus est iratus ad rusticos' translates to 'Gilbert(us) is angry at the peasants'. My friends wrote an entire story about this on my textbook in Latin (which they translated themselves). _

_I should probably move on from the 'oncoming death' genre._

_-Stars._


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: I apologise in advance for this entry. This is based off a song, but I won't tell you which song it is because it will spoil the end. However, if you know the song it will be painfully obvious which one it is because I have written it practically word for word. The title is the song's title, so it shall be revealed at the end A/N. Romania is written according to the song, so he has transformed into cold!solitary!sadistic!corrupted!lonely!fem!Romani a. Have fun…._

* * *

The young Queen had been sitting by the window when she heard the knock, a loud knock that reverberated around her quarters like an invading army. She stiffened immediately, none of her maids knocked like that on her door, they wouldn't dare. Nevertheless, she made her way to the door and flung it open to glare at the knocker, who stared back at her with a determine look on his face.

It was a soldier, she could see that now. One of her own soldiers from the front line, judging by his uniform, which was tattered and stained. His dark hair flopped messily into his green eyes, which seemed to pierce her deep inside.

"Yes?" The Queen said, titling up her chin to meet his stare. "What is it that you want?"

The soldier took a deep breath and performed a salute. "I have come to inform you that I have decided," His voice hardened, "that I am not fighting for you anymore."

The Queen's face betrayed no emotion, no hint of disapproval. Her red eyes raked over his face, trying desperately to shake off the feeling that she had met him some place before. Instead of arguing with him, she beckoned to him inside. He looked at her, confused, but she just turned around in a swirl of dark skirts and led him inside slowly, making her way down her hall.

"I've been fighting for a long time," the Soldier said quietly as he followed her. "And all that time I've watched your palace sitting up here on the hill, wondering who the woman is inside whom we all kill for, die for. But I am leaving tomorrow and you can do what you will."

Suddenly the Queen felt a hand on her shoulder, spinning her around to face the man who was staring at her angrily. "But before I go, I am asking you why."

She didn't say a word; just lead him down the long narrow hall, decorated with forlorn red tapestries. Finally she reached her private room when she allowed him in, the crown never leaving her head.

"Please sit down," She finally said, gesturing to the array of uncomfortable looking of chairs around the rich carpet. The Soldier however, remained standing. Finally, he spoke. "I see know that you are so, very young,"

"I am not!" The Queen suddenly cut in indignantly. "I am just as old as you!"

The Soldier laughed, shaking his head in a way that irritated the Queen greatly. "Perhaps you are in age, but I have seen many battles in my time. Many more lost battles than those that have been won."

"And how is that my fault?" the Queen asked stiffly, glaring at the Soldier.

"I'm not saying that it's your fault," said the Soldier, "But I have this intuition that all this fighting, all this death is all for your fun. So will you please tell me why?"

The young Queen then fixed him with an arrogant eye, trying to hide the impact of his words which had struck her down deep inside. "You won't understand, and you may as well not try."

However the strength of her voice was not reflected in her face, which suddenly resembled the child she truly was. In an attempt to hide the memories that were threatening to resurface, she turned away, closing herself up like a fan. However, it was already too late.

* * *

_The little princess had been crying in the stables when her playmate found her. Her red dress was horribly grimy and her eyes were puffy with angry tears. She would be screaming obscenities into the air, but she was a princess, so she had to become content with mumbling a few choice curses under her breath. Her long, honey coloured hair was tumbling lose from their pins, but she just let them fall in angry defiance._

_ "Princess!"_

_The Princess looked up at the familiar voice, face breaking into a smile when she saw who it belonged to. Her playmate was rushing towards her, his dark hair flopping into his eyes as he ran. "Princess, why are you crying?"_

_ "I'm not crying," said the Princess sullenly, turning her face away from his bright, curious gaze. "I'm not!"_

_Her playmate made as if to gently wipe away a tear, but thought better of it and withdrew his hand. "Well, I'm sorry that something has made you cry."_

_The Princess sniffed and looked away again. Finally, after a long, inner struggle she said, "I hate my brother."_

_ "Why?"_

_ "He said he was going to be king. That I will never get to rule-" here she stopped to give a dignified snort before carrying on, "because I'm just a _girl, _and girls don't rule a country unless they're _married."_ She looked up at her playmate with wide, passionate red eyes. "I don't want to get married! I just want to become queen! I'm the oldest, so I should be rule, not some stupid little squealing brat!"_

_She stood up, her small, child's body taught with anger. "He doesn't deserve to rule," she hissed, almost as though she had forgotten that she had company. "I do. It's _my _destiny, not his."_

_Her playmate said nothing, just looked at her in silence. His gaze was sad, mourning the girl that he once knew. This girl, the angry girl full of bloodlust and ambition was a complete stranger to him. Where was the girl who climbed trees and hid from her servants with him, who was always laughing and teasing and smiling brightly? It was if she had been swallowed up with greed and hatred and taken away from him entirely. As he watched her stalk away, he realised that he didn't like the feeling in the pit of his stomach one little bit._

* * *

_The Princess crept along the corridors, her small, bare feet cold against the marble floor. She reached the heavily decorated door without any interference and opened it carefully, slipping inside as stealthy as a shadow. She approached the four poster bed, leaning over the sleeping form of the young prince, tiny amongst the thick blankets. _

_A single tear rolled down her nose as she held up the knife she had previously hidden in her nightdress. Nevertheless, that didn't stop her from slashing the blade in a downwards arch; watching coldly as her brother gasped in pain before flopping back against the pillows, blood soaking his white sheets with horrifying speed. His eyes soon stopped staring at in her in shock and went dim, assuring the Princess that there was no longer any life behind those hated orbs. Satisfied, she slipped back into her room where she removed her blood-stained nightdress and washed her hands of her brother's essence, going back to sleep without a second thought._

_The next morning, she awoke to the maid's cries that the young Prince had been murdered in his bed, but the only piece of news that truly affected her was that her playmate had left to join the army, leaving her all alone._

* * *

The Queen realised that the Soldier was still waiting patiently for an answer. She refused to meet his eyes, but her voice trembled with emotion as she tried to redeem herself from her past deeds.

"I-I have swallowed secret, burning thread," she said hesitantly, detaching one of the ribbons from her hair and twirling it through her fingers, "It cuts me inside, and often I've bled," bled bright red like her baby brother, lying dead on his bed… She had built walls around herself to hide away her guilt, but sometimes it seeped through and she locked herself up in her room, cowering from the rest of the world.

She felt a weight placed on top of her head, and she looked up to see the Soldier, hand placed on the space in the circlet of her crown. She opened her mouth to say something, but before any words came up he had bowed her down to the ground, so she was kneeling on the floor next to him, her head forced down and her crown threatening to fall off. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him kneel down next to her.

"Tell me, how hungry are you?" His voice was soft and rough next to her ear, fierce with an intense passion that made her tremble inside. "You must feel so weak, because you are living here alone and you are never revealed."

The Queen pushed off his hand and stood up in an undignified fashion, extremely flustered. However, she didn't feel as angry as she thought she should be, and that was strange. Noticing this, the Soldier smiled sadly and gently took her hand, leading her over to the window.

"I won't march again on your battle field, because I refuse to throw my life away without properly living it. Look at this, your highness, look at your Kingdom. Look at the land of hatred, pain and suffering that it has become."

The Queen looked; she looked long and hard at the horizon that stretched before her. The sun was gold as it sat low in the grey sky, flooding the land with a dim light.

She wanted so much, so much more than she could ever express. Her entire being earned for something that she couldn't quite understand, was it power, bloodlust, emptiness? Suddenly frightened at what she had become, the Queen turned away from the window and refused to look at the Soldier's face again.

Her hand was still clasped in his; she could still feel his warmth spreading from his fingers and into her body. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't pull away.

"All I want," here the Soldier chocked a little, tripping over his words, "I want to live as an honest man, to get all I deserve and to give all I can."

The Queen nodded, even though the concept was beyond her.

"A-and… I want to love a young woman who I don't understand." His voice was trembling, yet she still refused to look at his face. "Your highness, your ways are very strange."

Deep inside her, the Queen felt the crown fall to the ground, leaving her standing in the middle of the floor, feeling stripped naked, and all her barriers down. She was breaking, falling apart. She was so ashamed, ashamed of how her heart was aching. Previously, she had not known that she possessed one. What was this feeling that was eating her away inside, leaving her as weak as a new born child?

Suddenly she realised that he was waiting for an answer. Instead of replying, she led him by the hand down the hall, all the way to the palace gates, where she asked him to wait. "I'll only be a moment inside," she said, the smile not quite reaching her eyes.

Out in the distance her order was heard, and the Solider was taken down by the guards and shot dead against the wall, killed without mercy, still waiting for her word. The Queen watched from her tower, watching him staining the wall red just as her brother stained her hands, staining her heart. Slowly, she withdrew and went back to the solitude she preferred, once again hiding from herself and the rest of the world.

Outside, the bloody battle continued on.

* * *

_A/N: Remember when I said I should probably stop writing in the 'oncoming death' genre? Well, now I've moved onto the 'death' genre~ perhaps I should move onto something fluffy next update, would you guys like that?_

_I cannot apologise enough for killing off both Moldova and Bulgaria, and also Romania's personality and compassion. _

_This was based off the song __**The Queen and the Soldier **__by Suzanne Vega, which is a song I have always wanted to write about. It's such a beautiful song that always makes me want to cry, and that was before I wrote this… It might've worked better with fem!Rochu, but never mind…_

_ www. youtube watch?v=3JIu_ptKHcI_

_-Stars_


	12. Chapter 12

**Sleepover**

God only knows what possessed Tsvetan to invite Alin Radacanu around for a sleepover that night. Perhaps it had been the excitement of the prospect of having the house all to himself that made him decide to phone his best friend. Normal teenagers would probably have organised a really kickass party, but all Tsvetan wanted to do was spend time with one particular person. Alin had agreed of course, rather enthusiastically, as was his way, but that didn't stop Tsvetan from feeling extremely silly afterwards. What was he doing, asking _Alin _of all people to spend the night with him? Knowing him, Tsvetan would probably pretend to be asleep the whole time while blushing like crazy. All he knew was that this was not going to end well.

The knock had only just reached Tsvetan's ears when Alin burst through the door in a whirlwind, enfolding Tsvetan in a running hug that lifted him off his feet. "Hey Tsve! You know, you should really lock your door at this time; you get all sorts coming in! Like, last week we had this cat which just refused to go away, I think it came over from Heracles's house. He has a shitload of cats, it's insane! Hey, where should I put my stuff?"

"H-hello Al…" said Tsvetan weakly, prising Alin's arms off from around his neck. "You can just give your stuff to me…"

"Awesome!" Alin dumped a bag into Tsvetan's arms, who certainly hadn't expected it to be that heavy. He sagged with the weight and tried very hard not to drop it on his own foot. What on earth had Alin got in there?

"Alin, do you think you can help me?" Tsvetan huffed as a lock of hair fell into his eyes. Noticing this, Alin reached forward and brushed it away off Tsvetan's forehead, causing him to almost drop the baggage in shock. "Ahh, Alin!"

Alin feigned innocence. "What?"

"Don't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because I almost mutilated my foot, thank you very much!" Tsvetan flicked his hair crossly and strode off in the direction of his room, with Alin following closely behind, apologising profusely. Tsvetan dumped the bag in the corner and look over to where Alin was standing. A strange gleam had lit up his eyes, and he grabbed Tsvetan's shoulders and shook him excitedly.

"Tvse, Tsve, d'you know what we've gotta do?"

"What?" Tsvetan gasped out, prising Alin's hands off his shoulders. Alin let go and thrust his finger up towards the ceiling.

"We've gotta strip your bed and make a pillow fort! Wouldn't that just be so cool?"

Tsvetan blinked in surprise at the sudden proposal. "I suppose…" he said slowly, watching as delight spread across Alin's face.

"Awesome!" Alin said, and he grabbed the corner of Tsvetan's duvet and flung it up into the air, cheering as the sheets caught with the sudden movement of air and fell down onto their heads. Suddenly Tsvetan's vision was filled with white linen, and he ripped the sheet off his head with difficulty. Finally he emerged, and saw Alin laughing on the floor, covered by his sheets.

"Oh my god Tsve, look at your hair!"

Tsvetan reached up to fell his hair. Just as he suspected, it was standing up in messy clumps all over his head. Annoyed, he shook his head in a half-hearted attempt to flatten it.

Alin gasped. "No, don't do that!" he reached up and grabbed Tsvetan's elbows, dragging him down to eye level. "It's cute!"

Tsvetan avoided Alin's gaze and straightened up again, desperately trying to hide his blush. Honestly, when Alin says things like that it makes Tsvetan extremely flustered and hot under the collar. Alin probably doesn't even know that he's doing it, either that or he just likes teasing Tsvetan by getting his hopes up.

Okay, so maybe Tsvetan did have a little crush on his best friend. Just a little one, mind you. He'll surely get over it.

One day.

Meanwhile, Alin had burrowed deep underneath the sheets again while talking at top speed. "If you just pass some pillows to me under here, I can prop up the sheets and we could have a proper fort! Can you do that, Tsve?"

But Tsvetan had already grabbed an armful of pillows and had thrown them on top of the lump that was Alin. He clutched his sides with laughter as Alin protested furiously.

"I said pass, not throw!"  
"It's the same thing!" Tsvetan teased.

"No it isn't! Would you like it if I threw pillows at _you?" _

Tsvetan puffed up his (admittedly, rather scrawny) chest and held out his arms. "Come at me bro."

"You asked for it!" Alin burst out from underneath the sheets and flung himself at Tsvetan, yelling some kind of war cry. He bowled Tsvetan over and grabbed a pillow, raising it up above his head and smirking triumphantly.

"Gah!" Tsvetan curled up into a ball to protect himself. "That's not fair! I don't have any pillows!"

Alin just laughed evilly, but passed him a pillow from behind. "Happy now?"

Tsvetan grinned. "Definitely."

"Then let us begin."

The two boys faced each other, carefully circling each other with their pillows up and ready. Alin bared his teeth and started growling, which ruined the mood and made Tsvetan burst into laughter. Alin took the opportunity and whacked Tsvetan with his pillow, bowling the other teen over once again.

"Caught ya…" Alin smirked, his infuriating grin the only thing Tsvetan could see.

"Get off!" Tsvetan bonked Alin over the head with his pillow, but with no effect.

"Do you surrender?" Alin asked, pinning Tsvetan to the floor.

"Never!"

Alin grinned, and lowered his head so his fang was just brushing Tsvetan's neck. "Do you surrender?" he said huskily.

Tsvetan felt himself grow hot, as if he had just realised what position they were in. Alin was practically lying on top of him, pinning him to the ground with his mouth poised above his neck. It was as if they had just stepped into some crappy vampire romance movie.

"Um… Alin…" Tsvetan said uncomfortably, trying to hide the fact that he had turned as red as the eyes that were now fixed upon him, "Can you get off me, please?"

"You have to surrender first~" Alin sang.

"Fine, fine! I surrender! Are you happy now?" Tsvetan rolled out from underneath Alin's grip, feeling very flustered. He stood up fast and dusted himself off, avoiding Alin's eyes determinedly. However, he just knew that Alin was grinning at him in that infuriating way of his.

"So," Alin said, as if nothing had happened, "What shall we do now?"

* * *

"… I can't believe we're doing this…"

"Oh, relax! It's not like anyone is going to come in, after all."

"It still feels weird… Urgh, this stuff is disgusting!"

"Don't move about like that – dammit Tsve, now it's all over your hands!"

"Fuck!"

"Hold still… There, I'm done!" Alin let go of Tsvetan's hand, who held it up for inspection, turning it this way and that. Alin had got hold of some nail polish and decided to paint Tsvetan's nails. They were now a bright, glittering shade of green. Tsvetan was quite impressed by Alin's skill with the tiny brush, it looked very well done.

"See honey, it matches your eyes~" Alin drawled, holding up his own hand up to his face in a mock pose, and fluttering his eyelashes.

Tsvetan laughed, and reached forward to grab Alin's wrist. "It's your turn now!" Tsvetan positioned himself so he sat opposite Alin, crossed-legged. They were sitting in the pillow fort, the sheets resting lightly on their heads above them. Tsvetan went through Alin's colour selection, trying to decide which colours would suit the Romanian best. Finally he settled on a black and a bright red colour named 'blood frenzy'. That would suit Alin well.

Tsvetan gently grasped Alin's hand and ordered him to flex his fingers. Then he dipped the tiny brush into the odorous polish and brushed it over Alin's smooth fingernail, painstakingly carefully. He repeated the procedure on every finger but the middle, where he switched colour from red to black. He was so concentrated on not smudging his work that he didn't notice Alin blushing furiously. They were so close that their knees were touching, and Alin could feel Tsvetan's breath on his sensitive fingers. His hand was getting steadily sweatier in Tsvetan's steady one.

"There!" Tsvetan announced, letting go of Alin's hand far sooner than either of them would've liked. "See, I painted your middle finger a different colour from the rest so you can flip anyone off if they insult you for your stylish look."

Alin laughed and demonstrated with both hands, putting on his best sassy expression. "I like, totally don't care what you bitches think. Elizabeta, Sadiq, Ivan, go fuck yourselves."

Tsvetan snorted, and went along. "He don't need yo opinions, douchebags."

"They are such bitches though," Alin said, leaning up against Tsve and pulling the finger at the ceiling, either to admire his nail or to make a general statement. Tsvetan didn't bothering wondering which one it was.

"Yeah," Tsvetan agreed, "especially Elizabeta." Actually, Tsvetan didn't have anything against the girl, but he knew that Alin just wanted a light-hearted bitch session, so he went along with it.

"God, that girl is insane!" Alin said, "You know she once tried to force me into one of her dresses, like those Vargas kids? Not only was that dress uncomfortable, it was hideous!"

Tsvetan laughed way too hard at the thought of Alin in a dress. "Did it have a bow and petticoats and everything?" he teased.

"Yes! And it was an awful pink colour as well, completely clashing with my eyes!" Alin giggled as he recounted the description, rolling his eyes to gross Tsvetan out. "Lovino and I decided to stage an uprising against the dresses. It ended up as a massive scrap in the playground in the end."

"Did you win?"

"… No, but that's not the point!" Alin insisted. "Lovino was a right little shit though. He was a right old foul mouth, and was so full of himself!"

"I heard he is dating that Spanish kid in the year above us now," Tsvetan said conspiratorially. "You know, the football player who played guitar in the assembly."

"Oh, him!" Alin exclaimed. "The one with the really nice ass, right?"

Tsvetan spluttered at that, his face turning bright red. "Alin!"

"It's true!" Alin insisted. "Don't look at me like that; I'm sure you've noticed as well!"

"I don't go around checking out random boys, idiot!"

Alin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure you don't. Hell, you're such a hopeless closet case!"

"S-shut up!" Tsvetan folded his arms over his chest protectively, glaring at a point past Alin's left ear.

Alin sighed. "Whatever… You can come out whenever you're ready. Don't let me or anyone else force you into something you're not comfortable doing."

Tsvetan sneaked a glance at Alin's face, and smiled hesitantly. "T-thanks Alin…" he said.

Alin smiled back. "What are friends for? Come here." He reached forward and gave Tsvetan a big hug. Tsvetan hugged back, resting his head on Alin's shoulder as he did so. There was definitely a great deal of reasons to why he loved his best friend, and not just in a romantic way, which was why he felt entirely comfortable with sharing such intimate moments with him. However, what he didn't notice was that Alin was having a turbulent inner battle of his own.

* * *

"Let's play truth or dare!"

"Are you serious!?"

Tsvetan was lying on his back in the pillow fort, his back supported by a multitude of cushions. Alin lay squashed up beside him on his side, tucking into the pizza they were sharing after having finished watching a movie on Tsvetan's laptop. "I'm deadly serious! Truth or dare?"

Tsvetan flopped back on the cushions, too tired to argue. It was past midnight, and he had already gone past the tired stage and into the slightly hyper stage. "Can't you go first?"

Alin readily agreed, his eyes glinting with excitement in the dark. "Sure! Hit me with what you've got!"

"Okay. Truth or dare?"

Alin responded almost as soon as the words left his mouth. "Dare!"

"Okay then…" Tsvetan thought for a moment, and then decided. "I dare you to sing' _it's my life'_ at full volume."

Alin laughed at the dare, and then cleared his throat, sweeping his arms out wide and putting on a serious face. "Love, it is so bright~" he sang huskily, distorting his voice, "Like a diamond in the light~"

Tsvetan started to giggle, and Alin winked at him saucily.

"Love, it is so true… I can paint my world in blue~

Love, it is so deep

And it makes my life complete,

Like a mountain in the sky,

Love is high, so _hiiiiiggggghhhhh~" _On that last note, Alin rose and octave and started singing in a falsetto, reducing Tsvetan to a laughing heap on the floor.

"It is my life and I know it's not forever," he sang, full out opera style, "It is my life and I'll share it all with you~

It is my life, we were meant to be together,

It is my life and I'll give it all to yooooouuuu~"

"Okay, okay, stop!" Tsvetan chocked out between fits of laughter. "I don't think I could take anymore..."

"But why not? It is such a beautiful song!" Alin exclaimed, still speaking in his stupid falsetto. "And I sing it so well, do I not?"

"Oh, shut up," Tsvetan said, rolling his eyes and trying hard not to start laughing again, "It's my turn!"

"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" Alin immediately leant forward, eyes glittering dangerously in the dark. "Truth or dare?"

"Uh… Truth." Tsvetan decided.

Alin pouted. "Aww, you're no fun. Fine, have you ever been kissed before?'

"Why do you assume that I don't initiate the kiss?" Tsvetan grumbled, avoiding the question.

"Because I know you," Alin stated, raising and eyebrow, "mind you, you can feel free to surprise me."

"The truth is; no, I haven't." Tsvetan said quickly, steering away from the last statement. He really didn't want to think about that. If he started, then he wouldn't stop. Already half his nights were taken up by him lying awake in bed, feverishly wondering what Alin's lips would taste like, what his skin would feel like to the touch, what his voice would sound like whispering his name…

"What!? You've never been kissed before!?" to Tsvetan's surprise, Alin sounded genuinely shocked. Tsvetan rolled over in the dark, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"No, just leave it, okay?"

"Fine… It's your turn anyway."

Tsvetan turn back, and tried to think up a good truth or a dare. However, no ideas he came up with were interesting enough, much to his disappointment. "… Truth or dare?" he asked, heavily.

Alin shifted closer to Tsvetan, so Tsvetan was immediately distracted by his body pressing up slightly against his. Tsvetan could feel Alin's body heat through his clothes, and he hoped that his blush and sweat wasn't visible in this light.

"Dare." Alin whispered voice low and extremely sexy.

Tsvetan didn't know what made him say it. He didn't know what possessed him to speak the first thought that popped into his stupid, addled head. But he knew that when he heard the words coming from his own moth, there was no taking them back.

"Kiss me."

Alin didn't not hesitate for a second. The moment the words had left Tsvetan's mouth the Romanian had reached forward and cupped Tsvetan's cheek, bringing his face forward to close the gap between his mouth and Tsvetan's. The last thing Tsvetan saw was Alin's vibrant red eyes staring right into his own, before the sensation of Alin's lips on his brought his eyelids crashing down in complete shock and pleasure.

Alin was certainly a much better kisser than Tsvetan was, but he kept bumping his long tooth up against Tsvetan's lower lip, an action which was very cute and very hot at the same time. The kiss itself was sweet and short, lasting only until Tsvetan decided that he desperately needed air. He broke contact and stared at Alin through the dark, wondering what on earth they had just done.

"Did… did we just…?"

"Yeah," said Alin, who sounded just as confused and wonderstruck as Tsvetan felt, "we did..."

"Do you… Do you want to try again?" asked Tsvetan shyly.

Alin grinned, and immediately complied.

**End.**

* * *

_A/N: Hey guys, I'm back! I'm very sorry about how long this one took, I've been very busy. Guess what? A few weeks ago, my friends and I competed in a competition called 'Tournament of the Minds' and we won! Now we are fundraising our asses off to get to Australia and compete again internationally, representing New Zealand! We're flying out to Canberra next Thursday, and I am so excited! However, this means that the next update might not be for a while, sorry about that._

_Thanks so much to Republic-of-Yolossia for giving me the idea for this fic, which is based off an RP we did. This is also inspired by some fanart I saw on tumblr. _

_This is the song Romania sang, it was this year's Eurovision entry for Romania, and it is fabulous. I highly recommend watching. www. youtube watch?v=MJ5MOdDfnXo_

_-Stars._


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Look guys, I wrote you a Halloween special! Enjoy~_

* * *

**Behind the Mirror**

_October 29__th__, 2013._

_Dear Journal,_

_I am dead tired. No really, all I want to do is collapse on my bed and sleep this day away. I hadn't quite realise how utterly boring my life is before now. Everything is just routine, routine, routine. Get up. Have a shower. Eat breakfast. Go to school. Come home. Do homework. Eat dinner. Go to sleep. What's the point in all that? Where's the adventure in life? Or am I just too much of a boring person to seek it out?_

_Perhaps that's what made me do it. On the way home I passed this weird little street market which was selling all this crap no one wanted to buy. I was poking around in there for a few minutes, before something caught my eye. It was just this strange old mirror, full length and black framed, with this little built in candle holder. Anyway, when I asked the stall holder how much it was, he just grunted. I turned to leave, but he called me back gruffly, and pointed to the mirror, indicating that I take it with me. I tried to insist that I pay for it, but he just shook his head violently and waved me off, almost as if he was shooing me away. So I took his rotten mirror and heaved all the way up my staircase and set it up in my room, which took goddamn forever. I'm still not even sure why I took it. Now it just sits in the front of my room, like it's…staring at me._

_Stop it Tsvetan. Stop being so stupid. It's time to stop writing, I think._

Tsvetan put down his pen with a sigh and flopped back down onto his bed, closing his eyes wearily. Carrying that mirror all the way home had certainly taken its toll on Tsvetan, his arms were now aching as if he had been carrying a car instead of one stupid mirror.

He rolled over on his side and glanced at it, a massive, imposing thing that perched in the corner of his room like a preying bird. It was only then when Tsvetan noticed how filthy its surface was. The glass was thick with dust and grime, like a layer of forbidding that seemed to cling to the object, dark and rather depressing.

Tsvetan walked over and proceeded to wide his finger down the glass, making a face at how much dirt he collected off its surface. He peered at the one clear spot he had made, staring right into his own green eyes.

A low, scraping noise made him turn around in confusion. As he watched, every one of his tacky ornaments; those creepy Russian dolls his cousin Ivan gave him a while back, some action figures and a random assortment of hideous clay sculptures were all _turning around to face the wall._

"What the hell…?" Tsvetan felt a shiver run down his spine as he watched. One by one all of their creepy, blank faces turned towards the wall, as if Tsvetan no longer existed in their plastic lives. "This is really weird..." Tsvetan muttered. He reached out a hand to turn one particularly ugly gnome around the right way, but it refused to budge.

Tsvetan backed away from the shelf, shaking his head as if trying to change the image in front of his eyes. He bumped into the door and wrenched it open. He was in such a hurry to get out that he didn't notice the back-to-front lettering written in the dust on the mirror.

_**That's for almost dropping me, bitch.**_

* * *

The next day Tsvetan felt brave enough to approach the mirror again, this time armed with paper towels, glass cleaner and a pair of gloves. He didn't give the message on its surface a second glance; he merely wiped it away, trying very hard not to think about it.

However, he found that the more dust he wiped, some kind of fog on the other side of the glass took its place. Finally, he gave up, slamming his gloves down and taking up refuge on his bed, glaring at the mirror as he scribbled in his journal.

_October 30__th__, 2013_

_Dear journal,_

_Okay, so maybe taking in that mirror wasn't the best decision I have ever made. Some really creepy and rather annoying things have been happening since I took it in, and I know I can't just blame it on my cousins. They may be creepy, but no one is magical or whatever, right? _

_Besides, that mirror is really starting to freak me out. It's almost as if it's laughing at me. I wonder if that's why that man was so keen to get rid-_

Mid-sentence, Tsvetan was plunged into darkness. He dropped his pencil as he fumbled around for a light switch, trying desperately not to be scared by something as trivial as the dark. Nothing was sneaking up on him; nothing was hiding under his bed…

Wait, was that scratching sounds he was hearing?

Tsvetan gave up on the switched and grabbed his phone, using its illuminated screen to find the switch and the source of the noise. His eyes widened in horror as he found it. The pencil he had been writing with was now skating across the page of his journal, entirely on its own.

Tsvetan stared at what had been written. Was that writing back to front? Breath baited, he read;

_**So I heard you were talkin' shit.**_

"What?"

Tsvetan involuntarily screwed up his face in confusion, completely taken aback. He picked up the (now abandoned) pencil and wrote underneath the strange sentence with shaking hands.

_Who are you? Why are you doing this?_

He watched as the pencil picked itself up again to reply.

_**Wow, way to take to the offensive. Who am I? I'm your worst nightmare.**_

_I'm Tsvetan…? And my worst nightmare actually involves being swallowed by some gigantic humanoid figure with no genitalia. Nice try, but no dice._

_**What's to say I'm not one of those?**_

Tsvetan found himself rolling his eyes at that last entry. _Well, I would be able to see you then, wouldn't I?_

_** But you **_**can **_**see me. **_

Tsvetan frowned. Warily, he looked around his room, careful to check out all the nooks and crannies where someone one might be hiding. However, his search proved useless. He was the only living thing in this room.

He was just about to get back to his bed when something caught his eye. It was the mirror, and there was something written on its surface.

_** Can you see me now?**_

Tsvetan peered into the mirror closely. At first he saw nothing, but then…

In the reflection, a figure detached itself from the shadows and made its way over to Tsvetan. Tsvetan was frozen to the spot. He wanted to turn around, wanted to check that the reflection was real, but he couldn't move. As he watched, he figure came up to Tsvetan and lent an arm on his shoulder, smirking at him right through the mirror. Tsvetan could feel his weight on his shoulder, but when he turned around there was absolutely no one there.

"What the hell? Get off me!" Tsvetan leapt sideways, away from the image in the mirror. He watched in satisfaction as the figure let out a soundless yell and unbalanced, falling to the floor.

Tsvetan rushed to the mirror and peered into it, just in time to see the weird boy get to his feet and flip him off. Tsvetan responded with the two fingered salute.

Tsvetan watched as the boy leant closer to the surface of the mirror and breathed. Then he started writing in the fog with the same backwards lettering in Tsvetan's journal.

_**You're very rude.**_

"You startled me!"

The boy rolled his eyes and cupped his ear, before writing:

_**I can't hear you, moron. Sound doesn't travel through the mirror.**_

That explained why Tsvetan hadn't heard him when he yelled, at least…

_** I don't suppose you can help me get out of this damn thing?**_

_**I'm Alin, by the way. Nice to meet you, Tsvetan Borisov.**_

_**Are you going to write something or what?**_

Tsvetan blink a couple of times, before breathing on the surface of his side of the mirror. _I can't believe I'm doing this… _he thought.

He wrote:

_ Your eyes are red…_

The boy – Alin – ginned at that. _**Yep, and my tooth is pointy. Any other intelligent observations?**_

Tsvetan scowled, and wrote on the mirror again.

_ Why are you inside the mirror? And how come you can touch stuff in the real world?_

Now it was Alin's turn to scowl. He turned his back and walked away, much to Tsvetan's dismay. What had he done now?

Alin quickly returned carrying Tsvetan's journal. He was scribbling furiously, but on Tsvetan's side of the mirror it just looked like a book was floating in mid-air.

Finally, Alin held up the journal for Tsvetan to see.

_** Look, for all you know, I might be in the real world and you are just a reflection. But seeing as this world only stretches as far as what the mirror can see I don't think that's the case. But the weird thing is I can still touch things inside the reflection. But reflections can't touch me.**_

As if to demonstrate this, Alin reached out a hand and tapped Tsvetan's reflection on the shoulder. Tsvetan tried to wave a hand through where Alin would've been standing, but there was absolutely nothing.

Tsvetan grabbed the journal hovering in front of him and started writing as well.

_And you have no idea why that is?_

Alin's expression was unreadable, and he took his time writing his reply, which just a simple _**no.**_

Tsvetan shrugged and yawned. _This is all too weird, so I'm going to bed… Don't try any of that freaky stuff again, okay?_

_**It was a joke! You weren't scared, were you~?**_

_ Shut up._

Tsvetan opened his drawers and started preparing for bed. He was halfway through the act of taking his shirt off before he realised that Alin was still staring at him from behind the mirror.

_ Stop looking! _Tsvetan wrote savagely. _I'm getting changed!_

Alin held up his hands in surrender and turned his back, his posture the very definition of Jesus-Christ-what's-with-this-guy. Tsvetan gave him a long hard stare to make sure he wasn't peeking, before stripping off his clothes and getting into his pyjamas at lightning speed. He practically leapt into bed and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that once he woke up it would all have been some crazy dream.

His eyes were forced open by the sensation of a journal smacking him on the head. Written inside it were the words: _**hey! Where do I sleep? **_

Tsvetan pointed. _The fucking floor._

_**But the floor's really cold…**_

_For a reflection in a creepy as mirror, you sure are childish. Will you stop bothering if I gave you a blanket?_

_** Maybe…**_

"Oh, for God's sake…" Tsvetan pulled his blanket off from his bed and threw it to the floor, watching in the mirror as Alin crawled underneath it, creating a lump. "I hope you're happy…"

* * *

_October 30__th__, 2013 _

_Dear journal,_

_Well, this is definitely the weirdest day of my life. Suddenly I'm communicating with someone who only shows up in a certain mirror and now I'm going to freeze to death because I gave him my blanket. Please let this be less strange in the morning... I'm too tired for this shit._

_-Tsvetan Borisov._

* * *

Later that night, the blanket that was on the floor got up and moved towards the bed, where it settled down next to Tsvetan's sleeping form.

Inside the mirror, Alin sighed in relief. "This is much better…" he looked sideways at Tsvetan's reflection, taking in the way he was shivering slightly, and how thee fine hairs on his arms stood up a little with goosebumps.

"Curse my conscience," Alin whispered as he spread his blanket over both of them. "You're too cute to freeze."

* * *

Tsvetan woke up the next morning with an invisible arm draped over his chest and invisible hair tickling his nose.

Nope, that definitely wasn't a dream.

"GYAAAAAAA!"

Tsvetan's scream was enough to wake the entire household, and wake they did. Tsvetan's mum burst into his room brandishing a cereal packet threateningly. "Tsvetan, who's attacking you?!"

"N-no one! It's okay mum, really!" Tsvetan desperately pushed the invisible lump that was Alin off the bed. Behind the mirror, Alin crashed to the floor and let out a string of curses. "I just had a… a bad dream, that's all!"

"Well when someone is attacking you, feel free to let me know!"

"Yes mum…"

"I'll fight them off with my lovely…" she glanced at her makeshift weapon, "half empty box of ricebubbles…"

"But I need that for my breakfast!"

Behind his mother, Tsvetan could see Alin pulling faces at him in the mirror and dancing up and down like a loon. Tsvetan tried desperately to make subtle gestures to get him to shut up, but Alin just poked his tongue out at him.

"We still have toast!"

"I thought we ate it all though?" Oh god, now Alin was playing with his hair… Tsvetan prayed that his mum wouldn't notice the random bits of hair that were defying gravity around his head.

"Oh…" Tsvetan's mum smiled brightly, "just as well I didn't need to use this then! I'll let you sleep; it is a weekend after all."

"T-thanks mum!"

Once she had gone, Tsvetan faced the mirror angrily and grabbed his journal. _What's the big idea, huh? _

_**I don't know what you mean~**_

_I said not to try anything and I wake up with you using me as a human pillow!? Are you some secret gay pervert or whatever? Oh god, do I have a pervert living in my mirror!?_

_**Can't we just be two friends huddling together for warmth?**_

_I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE FUCK YOU ARE SO DON'T TOUCH ME OKAY?_

Alin backed away from the mirror's surface, looking genuinely wounded. Suddenly, he looked extremely small, and very, very lost. He grabbed the pencil from Tsvetan's reflection and wrote something hesitantly.

_**I'm sorry… It's just… I'm just so lonely… I've been trapped in here for so many years and it's been driving me mad…**_

Tsvetan watched as Alin slowly sunk to the floor, trembling. He sat up with his back up against the wall, and buried his head in his knees.

He didn't need sound to know that Alin was sobbing.

Tsvetan picked up the journal from where Alin had dropped it and started writing. _Look, I'm sorry. This is really hard for me comprehend. And I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared of you._

Tsvetan walked over and dropped the journal in front of where Alin was apparently huddled. Then he too, crouched down and offered a small smile.

Inside the mirror, Alin looked up and aggressively wiped his eyes. He read what Tsvetan had written quickly, and then looked up into his face. It then struck Alin that Tsvetan was facing away from the mirror. He could not see Alin at all.

The realisation that he no longer existed in the real world, that he had no place, suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks. He was just a two dimensional image, a reflection of light. He was trapped, and there was no way out.

But Tsvetan was real. And if he put his hand out, he could feel the warmth radiating from Tsvetan's cheek, the warmth that hasn't filled Alin for a very, very long time.

On the other side of the mirror, Tsvetan gasped as he felt something press softly on his cheek. "A-Alin? What are you doing?"

Alin's had was trembling, Tsvetan could feel that. He didn't know what to do, should he move away? Should he let him do whatever he was trying to do?

Suddenly, the hand that was cupping his cheek moved and settled down on Tsvetan's chest, right above his heart. If you looked into the mirror's reflection at that moment, you would see two boys, one with his head bowed and back hunched, holding out an arm and pressing his hand to the other boy's heart. Tsvetan's heartbeat throbbed through Alin, giving him courage, giving him strength.

He picked up the pencil again, and started to write.

_**I think I owe you an explanation.**_

Tsvetan gasped, eyes widening. Quickly, he grabbed the pencil and scribbled: _Yes? I'm listening._

_**Okay. Well, here's the truth.**_

Alin took a deep breath before continuing.

_**I'm dead. I died many years ago, by falling through that very mirror. It took me a long time to die, and sometimes I can still feel all the shards of glass piercing through my skin. **_

Here the writing stopped, before starting again shakily.

_** After that, I don't know what happened, but my reflection somehow got trapped in the mirror, even after it had been shattered to pieces and repaired. I should've moved on, I should've left this world, but… I didn't. I'm just stuck here. And that scares me more than anything.**_

Tsvetan stared at the words that had been written in scrawling, backwards script. But instead of writing something stupid in reply, like "I'm sorry," he merely held out his arms. He wanted more than anything to give Alin a hug, to comfort him, but his hands only met with air.

However, Alin launched himself into Tsvetan's outstretched arms and clung onto him tightly. But his sobs only intensified when he discovered that Tsvetan couldn't hold him, couldn't stroke his hair, couldn't wrap his arms around his wiry frame and rock him back and forth. He couldn't even see him without looking into the very object that killed him. Alin was well and truly a parasite, clinging onto the edge of the fabric of this world, just as he was clinging to Tsvetan now. So when he raised his head and kissed Tsvetan deeply, it was with the realisation that Tsvetan could never kiss him back.

He raised a finger and carefully traced words onto Tsvetan's back, with his long, nimble fingers.

_** Thank you.**_

_** Thank you for everything, Tsvetan Borisov.**_

_** Can you do one thing for me? Just one.**_

_** Tip this mirror out of your window. Let it crash, let it shatter, let it break. Let it lie forgotten in the dust so my reflection can finally leave it. That is all I ask.**_

_ I can't do that. I… I don't want you to go._

_** Tsvetan, you have an entire life ahead of you. You can't waste that on a reflection. So please let me go free. I can't watch bear the fact that you can never touch me, the fact that I can never hear your voice, the fact that you can't even see me. We've fallen for reflections, and I can't let you lose yourself to one like I have done.**_

Slowly, Alin detached himself from Tsvetan and wiped away the tears that had sprung from the corners of the other's beautiful green eyes. He watched silently as Tsvetan got to his feet shakily and moved as if he was in the dream towards the mirror standing in the corner like the stuff of nightmares hiding in the shadows.

Tsvetan picked it up easily, far too easily. Why was it so light? It shouldn't be this easy. Tsvetan kept his eyes fixed on the mirror's surface the entire time, determined to keep eye contact with Alin for as long as possible. Alin stared back at him, face white, fists clenched and mouth set in a grim line. Tsvetan heaved the mirror over to the window, and with fumbling fingers, opened it as wide as it could go. He propped the mirror up on the sill and breathed on its surface one last time.

_I'm never going to forget you._

And then he let it fall.

* * *

_October 31__st__, 2013_

_Dearest Alin,_

_Sometimes I wonder if it was, indeed, all a dream. But then I turn the pages of this book and I see your handwriting in that funny, backwards lettering, still talking to me. What had your voice sounded like? I'm never going to know._

_I looked you up online today. Alin Radacanu, the boy from long ago, who was pushed backwards into a mirror by his own parents. Just because of whom he loved, or more importantly, which type of people he loved. It seems so ironic that you died for love twice. Or were you freed because of love? I guess that remains to be seen._

_I brought that mirror home because I felt like I wasn't living my life. It seemed like a good metaphor in my head, that I could find myself in the depths of a reflection. Instead, I found you. In a way, I guess we were both trapped, and we both helped each other. So I'm going to live my life to the full for you Alin. You can count on me._

_Oh, and one last thing._

_Happy Halloween._

* * *

_A/N: I think I've forgotten how to write._

_I had this idea floating around my head for a while, starting from when I moved all my ornaments around to face the wall because I felt that needed a change in my lifestyle. Thanks so much to Dreamer of Impossible Dreams for helping come up with the plot twists, the fluffy bits, and basically everything really. A really big thank you for listening to my robul ideas in science even though you are totally not interested. Love you sweetheart!_

_I this wasn't too confusing. Just ask if you have any questions about it!I enjoyed writing it, to say the least. Tsvetan's mum… Don't even ask. _

_Anyway, happy (early) Halloween!_

_-Stars._


End file.
